Dance with the Devil
by blc1227
Summary: As a fallen angle, she must prove herself worthy of returning to Heaven by creating more good in the world. As a servant of Hell, he must bring more souls to the devil. She must try to hold on to the remaining light in her, or forever be condemned to Earth, or banished to hell if the darkness takes over. What happens if a fallen angel desires a demon? Rated M for a reason!
1. Chapter 1 - The Fall

_**So, publishing "Night Swim" really set my muse on a roll! I've been toying with an idea for an angel/demon CS fic, and here it is! I hope you all like it. I'm really into these stories, and I wanted to make my mark. Please, reviews and comments are my FUEL!**_

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 **Dance with the Devil**

 **Chapter 1 - The Fall**

She hit the ground hard, feeling nothing but dirt and rocks beneath her bruising body. For the first time in her infinite years she could feel pain. Even though she was still immortal, a punishment was that she could feel everything, but never die to let it end. Her legs were crumpled under her, scraped and bloodied from the hardness of the earth. Her golden hair was tinged from the force of her banishment to this world, her light dress just as battered as her body. Her hands were covered in soot, dirt stuffed under her fingernails. She was no longer the glowing epitome of light that she was mere moments ago, she was now only a dirty shell of what she used to be, what she would have to fight to become again. Falling wasn't the worst part, it was the disappointment on their faces, the others like her. She was supposed to be the pure one, the one unable to be corrupted, but you know what they say, the innocent fall the hardest.

When she finally mustered the strength to pick herself up from the ground, she looked around her. She was in the middle of a field, surrounded by darkness, bright lights shining a good distance away from her. She knew where she was, she had watched the people from this place from above, she had even made rare trips when she was needed most. She had always thought it to be a beautiful and interesting place, but that was when she could go back to her own home, to the goodness and light that seemed all too rare in the land below.

Her bare feet felt cold against the dirt, her skin pale and covered in dirt and soot. She hadn't noticed the intense pain on her back before she stood. Long lines on each of her shoulder blades were aching from injury. She painfully reached behind her and felt a warm slickness on her fingertips. Inspecting the red fluid on her fingers, she realized she was bleeding. She was bleeding like the mortals, like the humans that lived here. Instant panic filled her mind as she desperately tried to feel for what was supposed to be where her wounds were. It dawned on her what had been done. She had been clipped before her fall. Her wings had been torn off of her body shamefully and violently before she had been banished to Earth.

The tears fell in that instant, the gravity of her situation hitting home. She was no longer an Angel of Light, a beacon of goodness and innocence, helping those in need find their way back to the light. This wasn't supposed to happen to her, she wasn't supposed to fall. Emma, a Fallen Angel, clipped of her wings, and condemned to Earth. The wounds on her back could not come close to the pain that she felt in her heart, knowing she disappointed everyone, knowing she had sinned, and knowing that it would not be an easy way back up.

Emma vaguely remembered her banishment. She remembered harsh words as she was pushed to her knees, she remembered the looks on the faces of the other Angles, especially of Mary Margaret and David. She was closest with them, all three having the same purpose, but different methods of leading lost souls towards the light. She saw tears fall from the Mary Margaret's sad eyes, and she could see the disappointment in David's as he quietly tried to comfort the other. She did not cry while she was given her sentence, she did not feel her wings torn from her body, and she did not feel anything as she was pushed down into her long fall. Even now, as she walked towards the lights of whatever city she had fallen in, she felt nothing, nothing but numbness. She didn't feel any pull towards good, no pull towards evil, but she felt as if her intentions were lost in limbo, waiting for a side to claim them. Her green eyes expressed no emotion, her golden hair was now a plain platinum color, tangled and scorched. The thin, white dress she wore covered the essentials, all that someone as damned as her needed. She had the appearance of a beaten woman, a woman from nothing, and that's where she was supposed to start.

As the lights from the city became closer, she took the time she had left to go over her sentence, her charge, in her head. As part of the Fallen, she had to regain her entrance into Heaven by fulfilling an unsaid quota of good on Earth. She was to do her job, bring those who had succumbed to the darkness of sin and bring them back into the light. Instead of having divine power to do so, she had to do her work as a human, like those she needed to save. If she did this to the satisfaction of God, she was able to return to Heaven, however, her reputation would still be one of shame. If she failed, and she fell farther into sin and darkness, she would be condemned to live her immortal live on Earth, until Hell decided to claim her damned soul. Fallen Angels would forever be marred with the scars of their mistake. Not only were their wings clipped, but they would be branded with a basilisk, etched into skin, on their forearms, clearly visible to other Angels. The basilisk, the king of serpents, represents sin and is marked onto Fallen Angels to show they are tainted. Emma rubbed at the cut flesh on her left arm, right above her wrist, the cuts would heal, but they would leave an ugly scare in their wake.

When her feet finally touched pavement, she knew she was where she was to do her sentence. Looking around, she saw nothing of importance or recognition, only a sign that welcomed her into town. She stared at the sign, the wood a little beaten and torn, just like her, and the letters burned into its base. Storybrooke, Maine, was where she was to do her work, and where she was to live and suffer among the humans. She walked down Main Street, searching for a place to take shelter for the night. She found what she was looking for and froze in front of it. It looked nothing like the others she had seen on Earth before. It wasn't elegant, it wasn't as big as a palace, but it was quaint and filled with love. She walked up to the door of the church, rubbing her fingers along the grains of the wood. The sanctity of this place was supposed to bring her comfort, but all she felt was shame. Tears fell down her face as she crumpled to the ground, leaning her head against the door.

"I'm so sorry, Father," she whispered as rain started to fall around her. Even in the rain and the chilling weather of fall, she felt nothing but despair. She didn't try shelter herself from the rain, she let the water run down her body, cleansing the dirt and blood off of her, rinsing the soot out of her hair, and allowing the cold water to wash over her soul. "I'm so sorry."

She knew her apology would be heard, but not accepted. She had failed him and she wouldn't be taken back so easily. After was seemed like hours of crying and rain, she felt herself drift into a low level of consciousness, barely aware of what was going on around her. She didn't notice two women approach her in the early hours of the morning, she didn't feel them lift her cold body off of the ground and bring her inside the church, and didn't feel them set her down on a pew to face the crucifix. She began weeping once he was in view, curling into the pew bench, sheltering herself from his stare.

"Ruby, grab a towel and blanket from the supply closet," the older woman said, kneeling down to stroke Emma's hair. The young brunette hurriedly ran off and returning with the supplies. The older woman dried her off quickly before Ruby laid the blanket over her battered form.

"What do you think happened to her, Granny?" Ruby asked, concern etched all over her face. Emma could barely see their faces through her tears, but she knew they were worried.

"I don't know, I don't think I want to know," the older woman replied, running her hand over Emma's head, trying to soothe her tears. "What's your name, honey?"

Emma looked at both women, tears clouding her vision and heartbroken, she could see genuine concern for her, and for a brief second, she felt something other than heartbreak. "Emma."

"Don't worry, Emma, we'll help you," Ruby said, kneeling down and grabbing the blonde's hand, giving her a small smile. The only think Emma could do was nod before exhaustion took over her and she fell asleep in the metaphorical arms of the one who banished her.

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 _ **AN: What did you think? Like it? I REALLY want to know your thoughts on it! This is just the first chapter, and I promise, there will be plenty of dark, smutty goodness in its future! I haven't even introduced Hook's character, yet. Prepare for that. haha. Anyways, I'll try to update regularly, so don't kill me! Your comments will definitely help motivate... :) -Bailey**_


	2. Chapter 2 - The Deal

**Chapter 2**

 **The Deal**

 _ **Boston, Massachusetts – 1925**_

 _She sat across from two women she had met a month ago. She was sent down to keep these women safe and away from the debauchery they were beginning to find appealing. The two women were both very beautiful, however, looked completely different. Elsa was a tall blonde, with blue eyes and white hair, although she was only nineteen. The other, Regina, was a dark brunette, with brown eyes and dark lips, she was twenty-one. Emma loved the clothing of this era, the loose dresses, sparkly and light, and the ornate jewelry that made music when the wearer danced. Elsa wore a beautiful, light blue dress, the color of her eyes, and was covered with silver strings and beads. Regina wore a wine-red dress, black beads decorated the fabric and her hair, she was the darkest of the three, and she was the farthest gone down the path of sin. Emma decorated herself with a flowing white dress with gold beads and strings dangling from every hem. She wore a gold cross, as she always did, that was hidden between her breasts, helping to guide and protect her from the known evil lurking about._

 _The three women sat in one of the many underground speakeasies of the time. Emma had been surprised to find that alcohol was illegal, but she wasn't surprised by all of the illegal clubs that opened to sell it. She wasn't here to help prohibition, but she was here to help the two women stray from certain acts held at the clubs. From talking with the girls over the past few weeks, Emma learned that women were selling their bodies to men for alcohol and more illicit drugs. She couldn't stand by and let them go down the road to sin, she had been asked to save them, by their families and by themselves, in their prayers at night. So there she was, sitting amongst the other sinners, trying to keep her targets from going dark._

" _Do you guys want another drink?" Elsa asked, smiling, face flushed from the alcohol. She wobbled a little as she stood, Emma instinctively jumped to help keep the girl from falling._

" _I would love another!" Regina exclaimed, clapping her hands together, handing Elsa her empty tin cup. The girls were on their third drink, and they were becoming tipsy._

" _Emma?" Elsa asked, holding out her hand for Emma's cup._

" _Please!" Emma said, giving her cup to Elsa before she eagerly walked to the bar. She tried to seem excited, she couldn't experience the beverage like they could. As an angel, she was unaffected by alcohol and other drugs, so she had to play the part of tipsy, defenseless girl. Her job as an Angel of Light and Innocence was to bring those on the verge of losing themselves back to the righteous path. Her goal with Elsa and Regina was to keep them from going beyond the use of alcohol. I mean, even Jesus drank wine._

 _Emma didn't want to draw attention to her or Regina, but she was growing worried about Elsa. The young girl seemed to be taking an exuberant amount of time gathering their drinks, but going to look for her would leave Regina alone, and she couldn't do that. She turned her head and saw Elsa waiting for the bartender, who was busy filling cups all over the crowded bar. She sighed and left it alone. She pretended to listen to Regina talk about the men she was seeing, but she couldn't pay attention, she was too focused on a horrible feeling that had been growing stronger all night._

 _The horrible burning sensation over her skin was one that she was familiar with. She knew what the heat only she felt meant, it coincided with the humming of the crucifix between her breasts, a telltale sign for her. She scanned her surroundings quickly, trying to focus on where the burning and humming was strongest. The problem with finding the source was that it came from someone just as well hidden as herself. Only she and the other would recognize one another. Only she would see them as what they really were, a demon. Demons were the epitome of Hell and Sin, everything she was against and despised. Like angels, demons would appear on Earth to do the bidding of their master, bringing lost and broken souls to be damned for their weakness. Emma knew all too well how easy it was for the humans to fall with the demons, and how hard it was for angels to bring them back._

" _Here's your drinks, and look who I ran into!" she heard Elsa exclaim as she returned with their cups, another person by her side. The burning feeling grew almost painful, and the vibrations of the symbol on her chest became stronger. The all-consuming aura and smell of fire from the individual was only noticed by her. She watched as Regina pretended to not be as impressed as she was, always being the stoic type. Cautiously, Emma turned around to face the being next to Elsa and was completely surprised. The demon was a tall, dark-haired man, a few years older than the women, with an unshaven face and fiery blue eyes. She could see the red and orange lick of flames in his pupils for a brief moment, as his own awareness subsided. She tried to maintain composure, to keep her contempt and unease to herself, to not cause an unwanted battle between a savior from Heaven and a servant of Hell._

" _Good evening ladies," the demon said, in a thick, English accent. It was an older accent, something a mortal wouldn't pick up on, but it was clear he hadn't been up to Earth in a while. He smiled at Elsa and Regina before facing her. Emma tried to unclench her jaw to fake a smile, but all she could do was nod in his direction. He smirked at her, and arrogant smile, before bowing slightly in her direction, showing his acknowledgment of her being._

" _Hello," Regina said, taking her cup from Elsa and taking a long sip from it, staring at the man in front of her._

" _Good evening," Emma replied flatly. She would hold the charade as long as she could, but once she was alone with him, she would confront him, claim her targets. The fire in his eyes only raged harder at her words. Elsa dragged him by the arm over to where she was sitting next to Emma, their small, wooden table suddenly crowded by the extra body. When he sat down next to her, Emma could smell the burning, the evil, as his proximity singed her dress, unnoticed by the girls._

" _This is Killian," Elsa added, a look of pure excitement shown across her face. Regina simply stared at the man, he was incredibly attractive, but she had higher standards than good looks. He had to be rich, and be willing to follow her every command. Emma knew his kind were the charming type, good looking, seductive, and sinful. They entrapped their victims, seduced them into a life of greed and sin, and then brought their souls to Satan, forever damned for their mistakes. "I already told you my name, but this is Regina, and this is Emma," the young blonde said, pointing to each woman as she introduced them._

" _It's a pleasure," Killian said, the words rolling dangerously off of his tongue. Emma felt it unfair that something so evil should look as he does, but she quickly dismissed it as a simple observation._

 _An hour had passed of Elsa and Regina sharing small talk between them and Killian. Emma mostly sat in silence, trying to ignore his ever-present stare into her soul. He would not stop looking at her, and she knew that her job just became immensely more difficult. He was going to try to destroy everything in his wake, and that included Elsa and Regina._

" _I appreciate the drink, Killian," Regina said, maintaining her proper mannerism, not wanting to come off as a desperate girl, like Elsa was. He had bought them all another round of drinks, the two mortals were now drunk and wanting to stay, completely against Emma's wishes. Elsa, simply nodded her head in agreement, squeezing the man's arm with her hands._

" _Of course, when a man is surrounded by three beautiful women, he must satisfy their needs," he said darkly, smiling at them and then returning his flaming stare at the angel. The two girls swooned over his words, Elsa clearly giggling and Regina trying to hide the blush on her cheeks._

" _How kind of you," Emma said in mock praise. He could hear the disgust in her words and all he did was chuckle darkly. She was trying to not panic, she was trying to recite her prayers in her head, but her thoughts were becoming jumbled. The demon was playing with her, but she was strong. He wouldn't win this._

" _I need to find the powder room," Regina stated, standing from her seat and wiping away invisible crumbs from her dress. "Elsa? Emma?"_

" _I'll come!" Elsa said, jumping from her chair and taking Regina's outstretched hand. The demon looked at the girls with a dark smile._

" _I'm fine, besides, someone needs to keep our acquaintance company," Emma replied, looking at the man coolly. The two girls shrugged their shoulders and walked off, hand in hand. If she didn't keep an eye on him, he would follow them and take them._

" _I thought I'd never be alone with you, Angel," Killian said, leaning forward, the heat radiating from his body further scorching her skin. "Your breed never fails to surprise me with its beauty."_

" _They are mine. You are not welcome here, Demon," she said through clenched teeth. She hated the way his blue eyes burned in her presence, and she hated that she enjoyed listening to the words roll off of his tongue._

" _So feisty," he said, leaning closer to her. She could feel her the light in her trying to run from his presence, but she stood her ground. "I do love a challenge."_

" _There isn't a challenge, you cannot have them," she retorted. She could feel the crucifix thrumming at his closeness. It was taking all of her energy to not reach out and burn him with her light, the only thing that could hurt him. She was angry, usually demons were easy pushed away from a target, being an almost endless supply of them anyways. Killian, however, seemed determined to take them from her, to take them away from an angel._

 _His face grew serious, she could feel the anger swelling in him, and the inferno he had for a heart roaring, a simple warning to her. He closed his eyes and calmed himself, leaning into her to whisper into her ear, "I will destroy you if you get in my way, angel. Don't let this charming face fool you."_

" _I don't scare easily, demon. I will fight for them," she surprised herself with the anger in her voice. She had worked hard to keep these girls from going father than they were, and she would not step back and let her work fail so fruitlessly. Her skin was glowing from within, an aura only he could see. Her emotions were never out of control, but this spawn of Hell was making her feel too much._

" _You think you can defeat me, innocent one?" he asked, mocking her. He leaned back, slouching in the chair, arm draping over the back, completely arrogant._

" _I know I can, evil one," she spat, hands gripping on the arms of the chair. She leaned forward slightly, trying to take the upper hand. Suddenly the room stilled, everyone that was around them faded away in a cloud of black smoke, tinged with red. Before she could comprehend the change she felt a fiery grip on her throat, her back against an invisible wall. She clawed at his hand, to no avail. He was strong and powerful, much more than she had anticipated. The blue of his eyes had completely disappeared and was replaced with red and yellow flames, blazing as if accelerant had been applied._

" _How can you be so stupid, Angel?" he asked, his burning grip on her throat started to smoke. Her skin sizzling under his touch. Her hands on his were dealing their own damage. White light emitting and burning his hand like an acid, as if Holy Water had been applied. He ignored the pain, maintaining his grip on her neck, giving enough slack to allow her to gasp for breath and to reply._

 _His face was inches from hers, the relentless burn of his eyes and hands, the powerful vibrations of her crucifix almost too much to handle. "How can you be so arrogant?" she asked, voice hoarse and strangled from his grip. She tried to fight him, but his other arm pressed against her chest, keeping her still._

" _I always get what I want, darling," he said with a smile, his face softening a little. There was a look about him that made her uneasy. He almost seemed intrigued by their conflict. Her own eyes had become divine, the black pupils replaced with bright white, surrounded by her emerald green irises. "You're quite beautiful, different from the other angels I've come across."_

" _You can't charm me like you do these poor mortals," she whispered, feeling his hot breath against her cheek. "I won't let you take them."_

" _We could always compromise, love," he said, licking a small line on her jaw. The searing pain from his tongue made her whimper slightly and he laughed._

" _I don't make deals with your kind," she spat. He smiled before pressing himself against her, holding her completely still and allowing him to whisper into her ear._

" _I either take both, or only one, Angel," he said, barely audible. "I don't want to end you, I quite like our banter, but I will if you get in my way."_

 _Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was a demon really trying to make a deal with her? A deal involving the lives of two women? "How can you do that? How can you value their lives so little?" His grip on her throat was becoming increasingly painful, but she didn't let it show on her face, but she knew the skin under his hand would be red and black._

" _How can you not? Mortal life is so fragile, it can be taken away so easily, as we both know," he said, giving her a smile and a small nod. She knew it all too well, how easy it was for his kind to suck their souls away from their bodies, and how easily she could lift them up to a better place. "Can we make a deal, Angel?"_

 _Emma couldn't believe that she was considering his offer. Why would a demon be willing to compromise, and why would she be willing to accept? She knew that it would get ugly if they had to fight for the girls, and that, if she lost, both would be damned. If she did this, she would be breaking every command she had been given about her duties. If she did this, she would be punished, somehow. If she did this, at least one girl was saved. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, on the edge of falling onto her cheeks. She noticed how the flame in his eyes was put out, replaced by the lovely blue she had seen earlier. He removed his hand from her neck, eyeing her burnt flesh before she rapidly started healing. "You'll only take one?"_

" _Yes, I may be a demon, but I believe in good form between supreme beings," he said, pulling his weight off of her. He could tell she felt defeated inside, she felt all the emotions of failure, without fighting a battle. He wasn't sure why he felt a tinge of regret seeing her so crushed, but her burnt skin and watery eyes made him feel bad about his behavior._

" _Who do you want?" she asked, not looking into his eyes. She couldn't stand the sight of him, or herself, so she stared at the smoke covered ground, waiting for him to resume time and take them back to their seats, waiting for the girls._

" _The one almost gone, the one with the attitude. I'll take her. You can have the innocent," he said, almost as if giving her a gift by taking the rotten one._

 _Emma sighed and closed her eyes tightly, she would be able to save Elsa, but Regina would be sacrificed for it. Emma was sacrificing what good was left in Regina for the purer soul in Elsa. A choice she was not equipped to make, a choice she was already regretting. "I guess you'll be taking her tonight?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her body, trying to keep herself composed. She looked up at him for a brief second, he simply nodded his answer to her, serious and genuine._

" _So we have a deal, Angel?" he crossed his arms behind his back, standing up straight, and tilting his head down at her._

" _Yes," she whispered, an unshed tear fell and stained her cheek. As they were returned back to real-time, in the bustling room of the speakeasy, in their chairs, the girls arrived. Emma gave them her fakest smile, wiping the tear away from her face. Killian moved closer to Regina, draping his arm over the back of her chair. Emma tried to hide her pain as she moved closer to Elsa, talking to the girl about what a wonderful night she was having. She could feel his eyes on her for the rest of the night, paying Regina enough attention to guarantee she would go home with him, but he mostly looked at her. She tried to ignore him, but his presence was too prominent._

 _Emma found herself watching Elsa sleep that night. Standing in the corner of her room, the young girl unaware of the heavenly presence. She watched her breathe deeply in her resting state, watched as the innocence was guarded, at least for the time being. Even though she was so happy the girl was able to escape her meeting with the demon, she wept quietly for Regina. She knew that Regina was giving herself over to him. She knew that the moment she called out his name in lust in the dark hour, she would be sealing her fate to him and the Hell below. She could feel the goodness seeping out of the woman, she could feel her sin amassing to something evil, and she felt him take the last bit of light from her and replace it with evil. She sank to her knees when she felt the woman's soul die, a stabbing sensation in her chest at her failure. On her knees, tears falling to the floor, she could hear the faintest of words from him, saying she made the right choice._

 _She walked over to the young blonde woman, kissed her forehead lightly before ascending into Heaven to receive her punishment. She didn't know what would happen, but she was prepared to accept it, whatever it was, wholeheartedly._

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It was the middle of the night, the hour at which most people were home, asleep or getting there. The hour at which the world's most horrible people came out to play, horrible people and immortals, that is. Even in such a small town, evil would come out to play occasionally, and there were those who lived off of it. Storybrooke, Maine was somewhat off the grid. It was one of those towns that no one had ever heard of, and those who had grown up there wanted to leave. It was one of those sickeningly friendly towns, one where everyone knew everyone, and everyone's business was known by all. Of course, it had its small-town charms, but it also held secrets that came out after dark. There were many in town who had secrets that no one knew, but those with secrets knew others with them, as well.

He had made himself a regular in this town. There was always someone wanting to escape reality in this god-forsaken place, and it was his job (and pleasure) to help them along with that. Every new person was another soul to take and corrupt to serve where they belonged, in Hell below. He manipulated, he lied, and he fucked his influence onto those seeking their mortal desires, sealing their fate with the Devil.

He looked out of the window of his apartment, taking in the scenery of the night. Most everyone was asleep, being good humans, but there were a few committing any act of debauchery they could. He could feel the sin, almost like a vibration across his skin, but there was also something else. There was a presence that he hadn't felt in many decades. He wasn't even sure if he felt what he was feeling, surely it couldn't be this. He walked out of his room, stomped down the stairs and walked out onto the sidewalk outside of the apartment building. There was a burning smell, from above, filling his nostrils, there was a dull energy that resembled the divine, and there was the faint, sweet smell of someone familiar. He turned around, looking up into the sky to try to find the source of the energy, he stopped in his tracks when he saw it. High in the dark sky, a ball of white radiance came falling down towards a field on the outskirts of town. It was a phenomenon only he could see, he was the only one who could feel the shaking of the impact as the being hit the ground. He was the only one who knew that an angel just fell.

He stared out in disbelief, he had never witnessed an angel fall before. His master, a fallen angel himself, hadn't known of another fallen since him. I guess this one was the first in a long time. It was beautiful and tragic, all at the same time, watching the energy fall and fade, hitting the ground with a force stronger than he imagined. He should feel like a victory for his side has happened, but he can't. He remembers this energy, he remembers the smell. The angel with this signature had once made a deal with him, had once intrigued him enough to feel like he didn't have to kill her, had even made him feel the slightest tinge of remorse for charring her porcelain skin.

He ran his fingers through his hair. He was not only surprised that she so happened to land here, in this town with him, but he was also something that he hadn't felt in a long time, happy. He had wanted to run into that angel again, had wanted to talk to her again, and watch the faces she made at his ridiculous words. He would find her, he wanted to, but not tonight. He couldn't expose himself without knowing for sure what was going on. It could be a ruse, a simple trap to ambush him, so he would wait.

After walking back to his room, Killian sat in the chair that faced the window he was looking out of earlier. He had drawn the curtains back, allowing him the perfect view without being seen. In hour had passed before he saw her, beaten, bleeding, the rain pouring down her broken body, her golden hair plastered to her face. He stood and walked over to the window. His breath caught in his throat at the site of her, the thin garment barely covering her delicate form, the thick streaks of blood along her back, and the bruises from the fall. He watched her walk to the one place he didn't think she would want to go. He saw her crumble to the ground, crying at the door of the church, and the fiery hole of his heart ached for her. He couldn't leave her out like that, as he pushed himself from the glass, he saw two women find her and take her inside, stopping him in his tracks. He sighed in relief before sitting once again.

"Oh, Emma, what happened to you?" he asked himself, running a hand down his face. Tomorrow. He'd go see her tomorrow.

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 _ **A/N: So, what did you think? I know a few asked about why she Fell, so here you go. I wasn't sure when I was going to put that part up, but I figured it was now or never. Are we excited that she Fell near Killian? How do we like Killian? All fiery and hot ;) Please, your reviews and PMs are the fucking fuel to my fire! I beg of you, let me know what you think! I do take requests for story ideas, just PM me those. Thanks for reading! PS: Rated M for a reason, don't fret :P - Bailey**_


	3. Chapter 3 - Fresh Start

_**I cannot thank you guys enough for the encouraging comments I've received on this story. I wasn't expecting people to enjoy this type of thing as much as I do. I appreciate all of the views and reviews greatly! They are the fodder to my muse's cannon, and your excitement lights the wick ;) This story will get into the M rating soon, trust me, I'm wanting it just as badly, and it will get dark… just a warning. I'll put trigger warnings if there are any.**_

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 **Dance with the Devil**

 **Chapter 3 – Fresh Start**

Emma woke up in a dimly lit room, the surface beneath her was soft, not like the wood of the pews she was on last night. Her body hurt worse than it did last night, but she slowly peeled herself off of the couch she was on. The small office had biblical pictures hanging from the wall, a crucifix on the wall behind the wooden desk. The reality of her situation hits her like a truck as she sits, still in her battered dress, on the small couch in the cramped office. She assumed it was the priest's office, since the church was so small. She has no idea how she got in here, she only remembers drifting out of consciousness surrounded by the older woman and the younger one, named Ruby.

She wanted nothing more than to just wrap herself in the blanket she had been given and just curl up, denying to accept her new surroundings, but she was stronger than that. She gathered the strength to wrap the blanket around her shoulders and stand up, feeling every aching part of her body throb at the movement. The short knock on the door startled her, forcing her to sit back down on the couch. The younger woman from last night walked in, smiling sweetly.

"Good morning," Ruby said, closing the door quietly behind her. Emma tried to smile and just nodded at her. "Can I sit?" she asked, pointing to a spot on the couch next to her. Emma nodded again and the girl walked over and gently sat down. Emma stared at her blanket covered knees, not knowing what to say or how to explain her situation.

"Thank you," Emma said quickly, keeping her eyes down. She wouldn't be able to explain everything, but she would be able to express her gratitude. The two women didn't have to shelter the bleeding woman they found, many people wouldn't have.

The woman smiled brightly, "Of course, I would hope someone would do the same for me," she broke up, holding out her hand. "I don't know if you heard me last night, but, I'm Ruby."

Emma hesitantly removed her hand from under the blanket to take the other's. Her pale and bruised skin looked dead in the girl's healthy one. "Emma," she stated, briefly looking into her eyes.

Ruby suddenly placed her other hand on top of Emma, rubbing the skin tenderly. "You're freezing! Would you like a hot shower?" Emma nodded, she understood enough of this world's amenities and thoroughly enjoyed showers.

"Please," she muttered, slowly taking her hand away from Ruby's grasp. The woman didn't seem offended, but simply stood up and motioned Emma to follow.

"I'll take you to my place. You can shower and borrow some clothes. Okay?" She held on hand on the doorknob and the other arm out for Emma to come under. She let the brunette cradle her under her arm while they walked through the empty church and outside. Ruby unlocked the black car sitting out front and opened the passenger door for Emma. Ruby ran around the car and got it, turning the igniting and blasting the heat. Emma let the warmth radiate around her, thawing out her frozen bones, as she looked out of the window. She could see that the town was quaint, but beautiful, having its own charm, and own secrets. She was thankful that Ruby didn't talk on the drive over, she wasn't in the mood to talk much. She hoped that this empty feeling would subside at some point, because she didn't think she would make it back up if she had to feel like this every day. Although, this could be part of her punishment.

Ruby lived five minutes away from the church, a short ride and a good walk. Emma looked at the small house in front of her as Ruby pulled into the driveway, another car already there. "I live with my grandmother, she was with me when we found you," the brunette said, turning off the car and facing Emma. She could remember the older women comforting her, rubbing her hair, telling her it was okay. She remembered the tenderness the old woman showed her, and she was glad she would be able to tell her she appreciated it. Emma hadn't realized that she would be the one needing him after she fell, she was used to being the savior, not the one in distress.

"I remember her," Emma said, adjusting the blanket around her. She opened the door right after Ruby did, following her up to the front door. Ruby opened the door and ushered Emma inside. The older woman stood in the kitchen, flipping through pages of a book. She looked up to see Emma and her granddaughter coming in.

"Granny, I brought Emma here to take a shower and borrow some clothes," Ruby said, grabbing a towel and washcloth from the hall closet.

"Of course, dear," the older woman said, waving her hand in the girls' direction. "You can call me Granny, Emma. Everyone does. It's nice to see you up."

"Thank you for helping me, Granny," Emma said politely. She could hear the unsaid prayers for her form the old woman. She could hear the concern and confusions about her situation, but she simply smiled.

"Go get warm, the shower in the last door on the right, down this hall," Ruby said, handing her the bundle of towels. Emma smiled at Ruby before heading towards the bathroom. Once she closed the door, she sagged down to the floor, struggling to keep the tears inside.

"…well, does she have anyone here?" she could hear Granny ask Ruby from in the kitchen.

"I didn't ask, but I'm guessing not," Ruby said. Emma placed the towels down and pressed her ear against the door.

"Did she say what happened? Was it a boyfriend, husband?" Granny inquired, quietly. Emma closed her eyes, she knew it would only be a matter of time before they wanted answers.

"I don't know Granny, I didn't want to pressure her. She's been through enough as it is." She was grateful that Ruby felt that way. Emma knew she would eventually have to come up with something, but she wasn't feeling creative right now.

"She can stay in one of the rooms above the diner," Granny said. It was a very generous offer, one Emma would hopefully be able to repay. "I'll give her a job at the diner until she gets on her feet. Talk to her about it when you think she's ready."

"That's amazing, Granny! I'll talk to her," Ruby exclaimed. Emma couldn't believe how willing they were to help her. She was nothing but a stranger to them, a stranger they found bleeding against the door of a church. Why should they care? She was guilty they did, she didn't deserve pity, she deserved what she got, but she appreciated it, none the less.

"We all need a little help at some point," the older woman said with a sigh. "I'm headed out to the diner. I'll see you later for your shift?"

"Yes, Granny," the girl replied. Emma heard a rustling of belongings and footsteps headed towards the front door. She quickly started the water in the shower, not wanting her hosts to assume she was eavesdropping.

Emma stepped into the stream of the hot water. Steam filled the small room, clouding her vision and clearing her mind. The water stung the small cuts on her knees and hands, but that was nothing compared to the pain the water inflicted on her clipped wounds. She would forever bear two long, thick scars on her back from the clipping, forever a symbol of her sins. She tried to maintain control of her emotions, but the burning of the water and the thorough cleansing of blood from her body and hair inevitably took over. She cowered down in the shower, hugging her knees, keeping her sobs silently.

After she had calmed herself and washed away the shame of her fall, she turned the water off and grabbed the fluffy towel. She stared at the offensively dirty fabric she had been wearing. She picked it up, but didn't put it on. She walked out of the bathroom in nothing but the towel, the cold air of the house hitting her hard. As she was closed the door, Ruby rounded the corner to the hallway.

"I meant to give you something to put on," she said, a slight frown on her face. Emma kept her hair on her back, the towel covered most of the wounds on her back anyway. "Come to my room." Emma walked behind Ruby into the room directly in front of the bathroom. Ruby rummaged through a few drawers in the dresser, pulling out sweat pants, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. She reached into her closet and grabbed a pair of low-top converse. "I hope this is okay."

"It's very generous of you," Emma said shyly, hugging the towel closer to her body. Ruby gently placed her hand on Emma shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before leaving the room. She quickly got dressed, slipping into the sneakers last. She was the same size as ruby, maybe a little shorter, but the clothes fit perfectly. She walked out into the kitchen and spotted Ruby making tea. The brunette smiled at her before bringing her a large mug of the steaming beverage, motioning for them to sit on the couch a few feet away.

"Do you have anyone to call? Friends, family?" Ruby asked once they were seated. She had her hands folded together in her lap, but looked Emma in the eyes.

"No, I don't," Emma said softly, staring into her tea. The truth behind the words hit her harder than she thought it would. She was completely alone, no one like her around. Fallen angels weren't sent to places where there were other angels working, fallen angels were given nothing but pain and disgrace, relying on the pity of others to get them on their feet again.

Ruby nodded but stayed silent. She couldn't believe there was no one that she could call or turn to. Ruby could see the unshed tears in the blonde's green eyes, she could see the pain and shame sitting there, and it hurt her to see another person so broken. "I'm sure you're hungry. Let's go get breakfast at my grandmother's diner. I have something to ask you there."

Emma took a sip from her tea, relishing in the warmth rushing down her throat and into her stomach. "Okay," she replied, giving a soft smile, worried about what she wants to talk about. She still didn't have a story fabricated for the mortals around her.

Ruby parked the car in front of the diner, a small establishment on the bottom floor of what appeared to be a small inn. The diner was the epitome of a small town eatery, a bell on the door and red vinyl on the booths and chairs. Ruby showed Emma a booth before walking behind the counter and pouring two cups of coffee, speaking to the chef quickly before returning.

"I hope you like pancakes," Ruby said, handing Emma a cup of coffee. Emma smiled and took a sip from the mug, the strong flavor coating her mouth. She had always loved coffee on her missions to Earth. "I have a question, but please let me know if this is too forward."

Emma placed her cup on the table and wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic. "Sure," she replied, staring at her hands. It was hard to make eye contact with people, something she would have to work on if she was going to be successful in her attempts for redemption.

"There's a small inn above the diner, my grandmother runs that as well," she started, tapping her finger on the lip of her mug. "She said that you can have one of the rooms, and a job here, until you get on your feet. That is, if you're staying here."

Emma stared at the brunette. She hadn't expected to be given such a gracious offer. The two women had already done so much for her, she couldn't believe they were willing to help her this far. Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought to keep them from falling. "She's willing to do that for me?"

"Emma, we help people around here," Ruby said, grabbing the blonde's hand and squeezing lightly. "It's a fresh start. I'm not sure what you've been though, and you don't have to tell me until you're ready, but if you'd like, I hope we can be friends."

Emma's small smile grew wider, the first genuine smile since she had fallen. "I would like that," she said, squeezing the girl's hand back. "Thank you, so much. Please tell your grandmother that, as well."

"Good," Ruby said, a huge smile spread across her face as their breakfast arrived. "I'll take you to your room after we eat."

Emma took the first bite of her breakfast, enjoying this new form of food. She had never had pancakes before, and she was loving them. She was taking a bite of bacon when she felt it. A vaguely familiar pressure on her chest, a barely-there smell of smoke. She looked around the diner, everyone else seemed unaware of the sudden change in atmosphere, and it bothered her. "Do you smell that?"

Ruby looked confused while she finished chewing. "What? The bacon?"

"No. Do you smell smoke?" Emma asked, looking back towards the kitchen to see if anything was burning, but everything was sizzling perfectly.

"Um, no…" Ruby said, also checking the kitchen. Emma shrugged, assuming she was mistaken. She couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of pure power in her chest, though. She looked over her shoulder, out of the large window that exposed the street. She didn't see anything, but she remained uneasy anyways.

After breakfast Ruby took her up the stairs to a simply and comfortable room. A full sized bed, a TV, a small bathroom, and a phone, everything someone would need. Before Ruby left, she told Emma they would talk about working at the diner and buying some clothes later that day, once she rested. Emma closed the door behind the girl before turning to sit on the bed. The uneasy feeling hadn't left, if anything, it had gotten worse. She was racking her brain, trying to remember the feeling, but she couldn't put a finger on it. She had felt it before, smelled it before, but wasn't certain what it was from. An assertive knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She stared at the wood, the eminent feeling at its strongest. She slowly walked towards the door, keeping quiet, unsure of who could be on the other side.

* * *

He watched her through the large window of the diner. He knew the girl she was with, he knew her very well, and it was almost amusing that she was the one to find the angel. He only got to see her back while she sat, the blonde hair wet and tangled across the back of the sweatshirt. She looked nothing like an angel, but she was still beautiful. He could see her pale hands on the table, bruised and blistered, and he wondered how the rest of her body had faired overnight. There was something so tragic about seeing her like this, even though he should be feeling anything but empathy. It wasn't his job to give a shit about a fallen angel, it was his job to keep her falling, to bring her down farther, to have her succumb to the evil of this world and join the rest of his kind in the fires below.

He kept himself out of site from Ruby, he didn't want to be recognized by another in front of the blonde. He felt better knowing that Ruby seemed to care, but he also had the tinge of competition run through his veins. He would have to keep the fallen angel from taking his target away. He had barely started working on the girl, but he knew that the good ran deep, he only hoped he could corrupt it. Emma, no doubt, would cause a disturbance in that balance.

The girls stood up and walked towards the stairs leading to the rooms. He could no longer see the pair, but he could feel the presence of each woman strongly. He felt Ruby's feisty, caring heart, and Emma's withered soul. Once the brunette walked out of the diner and drove off in her car, he made his way inside. He walked slowly and with control, the people in this town already saw him as someone to keep at arm's length, he didn't need any trouble. Standing in front of her door made him nervous. It had been so long since he had seen her, their brief encounter exposed something they both tried to ignore. Their touch was painful, but they wanted more of it, accepting the marks they left on each other in order to keep feeling it.

He knocked on the door, placing his hands behind his back, hoping to show he meant her no harm. He didn't know what to expect, whether she would be willing to talk, or slam the door in his face. He just wanted to see her again, and to see what had happened. They were mortal enemies, but she had been cast out, and that was something he could understand. He had never been cast out, but the darkness she was feeling would be familiar to him. He took a few steps back as the door opened slowly, he found himself nervous, something he rarely felt. There was a sinking feeling, somewhere in the fiery bit of his heart, when he saw her face. Once golden and glowing was now pale and lifeless, eyes rimmed red, skin almost translucent. He watched her emerald eyes go from shock to rage, her hand gripped the door harder, and he could see tears welling into her eyes.

"Hello, Angel," he said softly, trying to keep his eyes on hers, and not on the bruises that were peeking out from under the collar on the sweatshirt. Before he could say anything else, she stepped forward, slapping him across the side of his face as hard as she could. He felt the sting of her touch, not unwelcomed, the brief burn of what power remained in her. Killian kept his face turned to the side, he was taken aback by her aggression. He should have expected her to react this way. He watched her step out of the corner of his eye, her face expressing nothing but rage and pain. He closed his eyes and could hear the door slam shut. He felt her presence crouched down at the door, much like she had been last night against the church.

"Why, Father? Why?" he heard her cry to herself. He hadn't wanted to hurt her further, but his kind didn't do much else. He stayed where he stood, looking at her closed door. He got what he wanted, he saw her. He saw a glimpse of her battered body and couldn't understand why a god of mercy would do something like that to one of his children.

After minutes went by, it was clear that she wasn't opening the door, so he left without another word. He stalked back to his apartment, only a short distance away, cursing himself for going to begin with. _Why do I care?_ He had a asked himself that question since the moment he felt her fall. He had met her ages ago, brokered a deal with her, and now she was here, that was it. Once inside, he threw himself onto his bed, covering his face with his arms. He was struggling with everything he was feeling, and needed something to take his mind off of it all.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, smiling at himself as he looked through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. "Good morning, love."

"Good morning to yourself," she replied, lightness in her voice.

"Are you busy?" he asked, although he already knew she would drop anything at his request.

"Not for you," she said, almost purring. He could tell she was smiling into her phone, maybe even blushing.

"Come over. I need a distraction," he commanded, emanating lust and primal need through his voice. He knew he could get her to do anything he said when his already deep voice lowered a few octaves.

"I'll be right there," Ruby said, trying to hide the excitement in her voice. He hung up without another word, placing his phone on the bedside table. He stayed on his bed, waiting for the brunette to come over. He had two objectives: fuck her senseless and ask about Emma. He threw an arm behind his head, his other hand tapping his lip while he waited. He would get to the fallen angel, through her or through Ruby, her new friend. The soft knock on the door forced him to stop planning, deciding to come back to his dilemma after he relived some pent up tension. He put his most seductive face on as he got up to answer the door.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I know this took a while to get up. I was finishing up a project for a class, life just got in the way. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I know it was pretty jumbled, but I was struggling with how to get Killian back in the story, without it being ordinary. I hope you guys are ready for some M rated activities…. and language. Haha. Your reviews are the fucking ink to my pen! I love reading your comments and suggestions! Until next time…. ;) -Bailey**_


	4. Chapter 4 - Communication

**_A/N: Okay, so trigger warning for rough sex immediately starting at the beginning of this chapter. Don't kill me for the pairing! Enjoy!_**

* * *

 **Dance with the Devil**

 **Communication**

"Oh my _fucking god_!" she screamed into the black satin of the pillow case the side of her face was pushed against. His grip in her hair was tight and close to painful, and she loved every second of it.

He leaned forward onto her back so he could whisper into her ear, "There's no fucking god here," he grunted, licking the side of her face. "This is pure fucking sin." He leaned back up, adjusting his grip in her long, brown hair. He rammed relentlessly into her, keeping her steady with his hands pressed into her shoulder blades.

"Oh fuck!" she exclaimed, hands slamming into the mattress by her sides. She could hear him growl behind her, even through the sound of her screams. He grabbed her wrists and crossed them on her lower back, gripping them with one hand. His other hand went to her mouth, placing four fingers inside to touch the back of her throat. He felt her body tense and then her pussy contract around his cock, her feral moans providing more evidence of her orgasm.

He bent forward again, removing his hand from her mouth and wrapping it around her throat. "Are you ready for me to cum in that tight hole of yours?" he groaned into her ear, pressing his forehead against the back of her neck.

"Yes, yes, please!" she begged, almost sobbing, her voice harsh from his grip. She bucked her hips back into him, keeping her ass raised high for him.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing the skin next to him. "That's what I like to hear," he finished, biting into the skin of her shoulder. She cried from the bite, he quickly followed her, growling as he came inside of her. He kept pumping until he was finished, both bodies sweaty and panting. He rolled off of her to lay on his back, catching his breath quickly.

Ruby rolled over, as well, an expression of pure bliss plastered across her glistening face. Killian kept his eyes towards the ceiling, ignoring the girl's amazing looks at him. "You never disappoint, Killian," she sighed, reaching to place a hand on his chest.

He huffed and removed her hand, tossing it back towards her. "You know I don't do that," he said nonchalantly. He sat up on the bed, standing up and walking towards the bathroom. Ruby shrugged and covered herself in the black satin, easing herself into the comfortable bed. They never did any post-coital cuddling, but he never made her leave immediately. She watched him walk back into her view, still shamelessly naked, not like he had anything to be ashamed of.

"So, what was it you needed distracting from?" she asked, twirling a strand of hair through her fingers, keeping one long leg exposed from under the sheets. He pulled a pair of black shorts from a dresser drawer and slid them on, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I saw you earlier today with someone. I haven't seen her around before," he said, keeping his tone casual. It wasn't abnormal for a member of the town to see one another around, so it wasn't odd to hear it.

"Yeah, she's new, like last night new," Ruby replied, propping herself up on her elbows, keeping herself covered by her hands holding the sheet against her chest.

"Oh really," he feigned interest, hating that he had to go through the mundane questions any human would ask about someone new. "What brings her into town?"

"I have no idea," Ruby replied, confusion in her voice. "I found her with Granny, propped against the door of the church, bloody and bruised. Something horrible must have happened to her, but she won't say anything. I'm afraid to ask."

Killian's jaw clenched, remembering how bad she looked from the window of his apartment. It was ironic that he happened to live across form the church, but it allowed him a view of all the troubled souls seeking refuge with God. It was like watching injured prey try to keep their heads above water. "I'm glad you found her, who knows what would have happened to her if you didn't."

"Yeah, I am too," she said, lying back down on the bed. "She seems nice, you know, considering."

"Aye, I'm sure she'll warm up, eventually." He said, more to himself than to the girl. Half an hour later Ruby was gone, completely sated and disheveled. A perk to his line of work was getting all of the attractive women, and it didn't bother him at all. He was comforted that there was someone the angel was willing to turn to, even more comforted that he had the only person she trusted in his back pocket. "You'll warm up soon, Emma," he sighed to himself before getting into the shower.

* * *

In the few days that had passed since Emma moved into one of the rooms above the diner she had been out with Ruby, buying a few clothes and necessary items with the advance on her paycheck Granny was giving her. The older woman insisted on letting Emma stay in the room for free, and wouldn't accept Emma's pleas to pay her dues. The uniform they had given her for the position at the diner was relatively plain. Black pants (or shorts, in how weather), comfortable shoes, and a white shirt with the diner's logo on the right side of the chest.

She was surprisingly falling into a rhythm with her job. She worked most days, making the money she desperately needed to keep herself afloat. She was able to meet a lot of the people in this town with her job. She did her best to appear happy and cheerful for the joyous customers, but it was a struggle. Ruby would even get annoyed by how happy everyone was all the time.

"Another day, another dollar. Right, Emma?" Ruby asked with a laugh as they wiped down the tables. They girls were closing the diner for the night, hoping to get off of their feet soon.

"Yeah," Emma replied, scrubbing her table with the cloth. "Do you work at the church, too?" she asked. It was a question she had been focused on since she woke up in the priest's office.

"I volunteer there, with Granny, sometimes," the brunette replied, as if the question wasn't unordinary.

"I'd like to help out, too, if it's needed," Emma said, finishing up her table. She had meant to go over there and give her thanks to everyone, but she hadn't found the time between settling into her room and her job at the diner.

"That'd be great!" Ruby exclaimed, giving her a giant smile. "There aren't a lot of people here, but there's always something to do." The brunette had also finished and followed Emma into the back to put the cleaning supplies away. They said their goodbyes, Ruby leaving the diner to go home and Emma walking up the short flight of stairs to her room.

Even though days had passed since he had appeared at her door, she could still feel the burning of his presence. What frightened her most was that she didn't know if it was energy resonating from his visit, or if he was close by, and she was unaware of it. Her head flooded with anger as she recalled him standing at her door, as if nothing had happened between them. He was the reason she was cast out, he was the reason she was thrown out like trash, and he was the reason she was angry. Gathering her wits, she decided to follow his trail. She could smell where the ash and soot scent was coming from, and she could feel the remnants of the warm path his body left behind.

She walked through the town, still in her diner uniform, the cool night air crisp against the exposed skin of her arms, neck, and face. She followed the heated path towards the end of Maine Street, where the church was. She could see the small building that housed her the night she fell, and she felt a tinge of guilt that she hadn't started helping out by now. Emma felt the path turn to the left as she stood across from the church. She looked to her side and stared at the dark, modern building. It seemed so out of place, all glass and dark metal, in a town full of soft and wooden buildings. She could almost see the flames licking at the windows, informing her of a specific occupant.

She felt the heat go up towards the third floor, the top floor. She could see it like the waves you see in the distance on a hot day. She could feel the pleasure and pain that the power produced, and she wouldn't admit the draw it had on her. Beneath the scent of fire and ash was something spicy, something unique to an individual. She found the door emanating the most heat, power rolling off of the dark metal like smoke from a fire. The heat only fueled her own rage as she stood in front of his door, much like he must have been the night he came to see her. She pounded on the door, crossing her arms across her chest while she waited for an answer.

He opened the door slowly, already knowing who was on the other side. He plastered his signature smirk on his face, hoping it would cover the nervousness he felt. He could see the rage on her face, the pure hatred towards him, but there was something underneath the scowl, something close to curious.

"You should have told me," Emma blurted coldly. She kept her green eyes on his blue ones, staring deep down into the black abyss he called a soul.

"Good night to you, too, angel," he said, opening his door wider to allow her entry. She hesitated, squinting at him, concern leaking through the slits of her eyes. "No need to worry about any trickery on my part," he assured her, lifting a hand in innocence.

She walked past him quickly, trying not to notice how hot his skin was when she accidentally brushed against him. She heard the door close quietly behind her, but she could feel him keeping his distance. Her resolve was starting to falter, she wanted to appear strong and in control, not like the wounded prey she felt like. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked again, turning around to face him. She hated him for looking so good in all black. The tight, black jeans and fitted black t-shirt that hung deliciously on his body made her want to hit him and lick him, all at the same time.

"Tell you what?" he asked, leaning against the door, keeping his arms by his sides. He didn't want to scare her more than she, probably, already was.

"You should have told me who you were, demon," she spat, unfolding her arms, clenching fists at her sides.

"It's simple, love," he said, pushing off of the door and walking closer to her. She refused to back down, even when he stood only two feet away from her. "You wouldn't have made the deal if I had."

She stared at his lips, the way they curved up slightly as he looked at her, the dark stubble contrasting nicely with the tan of his skin and pink of his lips. "No, I wouldn't have."

"I wanted you to accept the deal, Emma," he said, closing one foot of distance between them.

"If I had known you were the Devil's deputy, I wouldn't have made it." She watched his face harden at her words. The fire she remembered all too well began burning in place of the blue in his eyes. "Why did you want me to make it?"

Before she could blink he was directly in front of her, eyes full of fire, body radiating heat like a chemical fire. "I was going to have to kill you."

She stared up at him, green eyes wide, breath hitched. His closeness was intimidating, but he wasn't making her afraid. "Why care about killing an angel?" she whispered, swallowing hard and holding his gaze. She felt his hot breath against her skin, ragged and uncomfortable. He just stood there in silence, brooding at her.

"There is something about you," he started, reaching a burning hand up as if to caress her cheek, he kept his fingertips an inch away from her skin, he wasn't sure if they would burn or not.

"Like what?" she asked, voice a little stronger this time. She could feel the fire from his fingertips, but it wasn't burning, just a welcoming heat.

The fire in his eyes raged as if fed with gasoline. "I don't know," he said through gritted teeth. It was clear to her that whatever he felt was confusing him, and it bothered him. "I can't seem put my fingers on it," he finished with a smirk, laughing at the irony of his words. He lowered his hand with a sigh, stepping away from her to walk farther into his apartment. Emma stood frozen, she wasn't sure what to say.

"If you had been a lower level demon, I wouldn't be here," she said, hugging her arms to her chest. She knew that it wasn't his fault, she could have said no to the deal, but she trusted him, for some reason. She had thought she was doing the right thing, saving at least one of them, but she sacrificed the other for it, and that went against everything she believed in.

"Is that why you were cast out?" he asked, walking to the kitchen, grabbing two tumblers from a cabinet. She turned around to face him, completely in awe of the civility of the situation. She would have never imagined to be in the same room as someone like him and have there not be fighting. "That was almost a century ago, why was your punishment only enacted now?"

She watched him pour amber liquid into the glasses, it looked like honey, but she knew it wasn't sweet. "Only making a deal with Him would have been worse," she said, growing a little more comfortable in his presence. If he was wanting to kill her, or hurt her, he would have by now. He noted how she wouldn't say the same of his superior, but he rolled it off, she was newly fallen, it would take some time.

"But why so long?" he questioned, walking back to where is couch was, motioning for her to sit. She hesitated before sitting down in a chair, far away from his seat on his black leather couch. He slid one of the tumblers across the table to her, stopping immediately at the edge in front of her.

"I wasn't watched like a hawk. I was trusted to do my work, it took a while for my mistake to catch up to me," she said, grabbing the glass off of the table, swirling the liquid inside.

"You think it was a mistake? Or does your God think it was a mistake?" he asked, taking a long swallow of the whiskey, keeping his eyes on her.

"It was a mistake!" she spat, her grip tightening on the glass, white light illuminating the contents. "I should have fought you! I should have fought for the other girl," she was on the verge of tears, but she was angry at herself, angry that she wanted to blame him.

"I would have killed you, I would have taken both girls in front of you, and then killed you. A horrible, horrible death."

"I should have died for them," she said softly, downing the contents of her glass in one, large gulp. She enjoyed the burn as much as she enjoyed the warmth coming off of him.

"Why?" he asked, finishing his own glass and setting it down on the table. "From what I can see, you saved one girl and left with your life. If you hadn't accepted my deal, you and both girls would be dead."

"It's better to do the right thing-" she started.

"It's better?!" he screamed, suddenly in front of her again, standing over her while she sat in the chair. "It's better for everyone to die as long as it is the _righteous_ thing to do?!"

"Yes," she whispered, trying to push herself as far back into the chair as she could. He was angry, the fire in his eyes a full, raging inferno, heat waves radiating off of his skin, smoke lightly flowing from his mouth and nose.

He leaned forward, both hands on each arm rest of the chair so that he was hovering over her, faces inches apart. "How does that make any sense? The beliefs your God has engrained into you and all the other god-fearing disciples is why good will always die and evil, like me, will always thrive."

"Congratulations then," she said, leaning forward slightly, to show she was stronger than she thought. "Looks like you've won."

He leaned back at her words, almost hurt by them, and stood up straight. "I don't consider your fall a victory, Emma."

"No? You, the Devil's deputy, caused an angel to go against everything, and because of that, I fell. It's been hundreds of centuries since a demon has caused an angel to fall."

"Killing you, damning your soul to Hell, would have been a victory," he said, backing away from her slowly. The fire in his eyes subsided back to their original blue, his skin a bearable temperature again. "I felt you fall that night, I felt the ground crumble, and there was no victory in that."

"I don't need your pity," Emma said, standing and walking around to the back of the chair. She had had enough with their conversation, becoming more complex than she had anticipated. She wanted to confront him, blame him, but all she was getting was logic, and she hated it.

"It's not _pity_ ," he spat, walking towards the widow that looked out onto the street, turning to face her.

"Then what is it?" she asked softly, too emotionally spent to put any energy into the question.

"Like I said earlier, I don't know," he shrugged before crossing his arms, unsure of what to say to her next. He didn't need to be having this conversation, didn't need to feel guilty for being her downfall, but he did. There was a horrible tinge in his chest, and he despised himself for feeling it.

She let a long pause go by, finally ready to end their talk. "I have to work hard to prove myself," she started, walking towards the door. "I won't get in your way, if you don't get in mine."

"I can't promise that, angel," he said, nothing but sincerity in his voice. She looked over her shoulder with a hand on the door knob, he looked sad, disappointed almost.

"Then I'll make your life and nightmare," she said, opening the door and letting herself out. He stared at the door as it shut, listening to the sound of her walking down the stairs and out of the building, no doubt towards her room at Granny's.

"I look forward to it," he smiled to himself before grabbing his keys and walking out the door. Even the owner of an establishment like his had to make an appearance once in a while. Plus, it allowed him to hunt new prey within the drunk crowd.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So...? What did you think? Don't kill me for the Ruby/Killian pairing in this chapter! Just trust me! I am a true Captain Swan fan, but this needed to be in there! Your comments and reviews keep me going! Sorry for the long wait on this one... my muse was feeling rusty! Comments help keep her oiled! -Bailey**_


	5. Chapter 5 - It's a Sin

_**A/N: So, here's another update, hopefully not too long of a wait for you guys. I hope this chapter receives better, I'm taking it everyone was a little disappointed with the little smut scene between Killian and Ruby, but, you'll see why it was there in this chapter. Trigger warning: If you are easily offended by unconventional religious discussion. The typical merciful god is not discussed in this chapter! This isn't supposed to be a religious story, but I plan on adding some points when necessary! Anyways, enjoy! Things get a bit intense at the end!**_

* * *

 **Dance with the Devil**

 **Chapter 5 - It's a Sin**

Like any bar on a week night, there was a steady flow of people enjoying libations and the atmosphere of freedom. He ran his establishment as a way to escape the judgments of those in town and completely let loose. Be who they were behind the closed doors of their homes. He had prided himself in creating a place that could contain so much sin in a town that was right out of 50's suburbia. He was witness to acts of adultery, drug use, drunkenness, prostitution, homosexual behavior, and any other god forsaken act you could think of. He loved watching, participating, when the right people were involved, and initiating these lewd behaviors.

He had a fully stocked bar, scantily-clad waitresses, comfortable furniture, and grinding music. The dark interior allowed for a bit of mystery with every encounter, a thrill in every unseen touch. On the nights he showed up, the bar roared. Women would give themselves over to him, men would admire him, and some men would even eye-fuck him from across the room. He accepted and appreciated everything, reveling in the fact he could have, and take, whatever he wanted. It was, after all, his job and right to take and condemn.

He walked into his bar, receiving the same reaction he always got from everyone as the doors close behind him. He blended in perfectly with the black a red color scheme, wearing black jeans, black boots, and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He walked with a swagger that had the women biting their lips and the men envy him. He only made eye contact with his bartender, a small, twenty-two year old woman with blonde hair, knotted into a messily sexy bun on top of her head. Tink was a good girl, fresh out of high school, before she met Killian. He brought her over to the life of sin and lust, taking her virginity and fucking her relentlessly for a couple of years. Once she was fully bound to serve Hell, he moved on, but kept her around. He made her a wonderful lay, and his male patrons loved her. She always wore the smallest black, see-through dresses that exposed either red or black lingerie, and hugged her curves perfectly. He noticed the red peeking through the dress, and it matched the color of her red, thigh-high boots.

"How are things going this evening, Tink?" Killian asked as he rested his arms on the bar. The girl dropped her task of dispensing beer into glasses from the tap.

"Great, Mr. Jones!" she said, a little bounce in her step. She placed her hands on the bar, a few inches away from his arms.

"Excellent. Let me know if you have any trouble. I'll be here for a while," he said, pushing off of the bar. She gave a big smile and nodded before he walked towards the back of the room. There was always a corner booth reserved for whenever he wanted to come in. He sat in the middle, giving himself a perfect view of the happenings inside Hook. While he knew the name wouldn't be entirely sexy, he knew it would by intriguing enough for people to stop by. He made sure to make the atmosphere of the bar enticing and seductive, bringing customers back for more.

"Mr. Jones! I didn't know you were coming in tonight," the beady man said, slightly nervous.

"I wasn't under the impression I had to inform you, Smee," Killian replied, leaning back against the booth and wrapping both arms around the backboard. Smee was his own personal _assistant_ , and that was being generous. Smee was a low-level imp, practically the least significant creature in Hell.

The short, round man ducked his eyes in embarrassment, shifting his weight on his feet. "Of course not, Mr. Jones."

"How's business tonight?" the superior male asked, tapping his fingers on the dark wood bordering the booth. He averted his gaze from the man, focusing on the bustling crowd.

"Excellent, sir!" Smee exclaimed, casting his gaze towards the customers and then back at his boss. "It seems they want somewhere to have fun during the week after all." Smee had been unsure about keeping the bar open every day of the week, but Killian knew it would eventually bring more sinners in to divulge in more vulgar activity.

"Brilliant," Killian murmured to himself. "Have Tink bring me a double scotch, and only come to me if there are any business inquiries. Understood?" Killian stared at the shorter man, seriousness coating his words.

"Right away, Mr. Jones," Smee replied, giving him a short bow before walking towards the blonde bartender. Killian watched him talk to the girl quickly before scurrying back to his tiny office. A few moments later, Tink placed the glass in front of him, giving him a smile before hurrying back to the bar. Killian chuckled to himself as he took a long swig and licked the remnants of the alcohol off of his lips. He tried to not think about his conversation with Emma the night before, but he couldn't get it out of his mind. She hadn't sought him out again, and he had left her alone, as well. Now it was just a waiting game of either running into her or sensing her presence and seeking her out. He despised himself for wanting to see her again. He sighed before tipping his glass and swallowing the remaining scotch in his glass.

* * *

"Emma, you're going out with me," Ruby said, shuffling through the clothes in her closet frantically. Emma had come home with Ruby after work that night, expecting to spend the evening there watching movies and eating popcorn. Ruby had surprised her by saying she was taking her out, that she needed to have some fun.

"I just don't really 'go out'," Emma replied, unsure of what to say. She hadn't been down to Earth in almost a century, she had no idea what to expect "going out" was.

"I need a wingman, and you're my friend, so you have to go out to help me," Ruby replied, finally settling on a crimson bandage dress that looked much too small for a person to fit into. "Besides, without someone, who knows what kind of trouble I could get into," she finished with a smirk. Emma knew she was just kidding, but the thought was suddenly engrained into her brain. She watched Ruby pull out a brown, furry coat and red high heels.

Emma chewed at her lip, she really didn't want to go, but this could give her an opportunity to do her work and keep and watchful eye on her new friend. "Fine, but I don't know what to wear."

Ruby squealed and returned to searching in the closet. "No worries, I'll find something for you!" Before Emma could tell her to find something a bit more modest than the dress she had picked out for herself, Ruby had uncovered a white tube dress, no bigger than the crimson one.

"Oh, no. I can't wear that!" Emma exclaimed, pointing to the small piece of fabric. She looked horrified by the sheer audacity of the fashion of this time. Ruby ignored her and pulled out a red leather jacket and black heels. Emma stood stunned by the outfit picked for her, but accepted the garments into her arms. Ruby gave her the biggest smile she had ever seen before Emma walked towards the bathroom to change. She slowly slipped out of her jeans and t-shirt, as if she was afraid to put the dress on. The small tag on the bag was the only indicator for the direction she needed to hold the dress to slip it on. The material slowly rolled down her body, hugging every inch of skin it could. She could not believe how tight the article was, and she was thankful for the nude undergarments she was wearing. When she finally looked at herself in the mirror, she frowned. The dress had no straps, so the bra she had bought with Ruby was exposed. She reached behind her back and unclasped the garment, tossing it in the pile of her discarded clothes. She adjusted her breasts as best she could, noticing how the dress pressed them to her body, creating a wonderful swell and line of cleavage. It was almost an oxymoron, a fallen angel, wearing pure white, exposing most of her body. She couldn't deny that she actually liked the way she looked in the dress, how it exposed the long, pale skin of her legs, hugged her small waist, and still looked feminine. She turned around to see how the back looked and the small smile vanished from her lips. Long, thick streaks of healing wounds sat on either side of her spine, right on the edge of her shoulder blades. The scabbing skin was red and brown, extremely visible against the lightness of her skin. Her eyes began to water, but she quickly blinked the tears away. She was done feeling sorry for herself. She threw on the leather jacket Ruby had given her, appreciating the contrast of red against white. Carrying the heels and her other clothes in her arms, she returned to the bedroom.

"You look amazing," Ruby said, almost in awe. She was putting on some dangly earrings when Emma walked in. Ruby's tall, lean body looked stunning in the tight crimson material. Emma admired how her dark hair contrasted with her pale skin, and she knew she would have a hard time keeping this one in check.

"Thank you," Emma replied shyly. "That really is your color."

Ruby winked at her before grabbing a small bag and walking over to Emma. "You're beautiful without it, but I want to see you all dolled up." Emma gave a surprised expression but took a seat on the bed, Ruby following close behind. She felt her apply shadow to her lids and then generously coat her lashes in mascara. "There. Not too much, but just enough to show off your eyes!" Ruby dragged Emma off the bed to the mirror in her room. The angel was a little surprised by the effect such a small amount of product could have, but she liked it. The black lashes really accented the green of her eyes.

"I love it, Thanks," Emma said with a smile. If you had asked her a week ago if she thought she would ever genuinely smile again, she would have said no.

"Alright, put your shoes on and let's go," Ruby said, pulling on her furry coat and slipping into her own shoes. Emma did as requested and followed Ruby out to her car.

"So where could we be going dressed like this?" Emma asked, once they were well on their way. She couldn't imagine a town like this to have anything requiring scandalous attire like what she had on.

"The only bar in town," Ruby replied, excitement in her voice. "It's called Hook, and it's got to be one of the coolest places I've ever been to."

"That's an odd name," Emma stated, looking out of her window for any signs of a building with that title.

"Yeah, but I think it's supposed to be like 'it'll hook you in', or something like that," Ruby said, shrugging her shoulders. She pulled into a parking spot on the side of the street, in front of the only building around that was not connected to another. There weren't any lights on the sign, just the elegantly written _Hook_ at the top. She felt a slight unease as they walked towards the door, but she shook it off as the not-so-righteous behaviors going on inside the bar. Ruby opened the door and Emma was immediately hit with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and hidden debauchery. The uneasy feeling only grew and her friend grabbed her hand and brought her towards the tall stools in front of the bar. Emma became very conscious of the stares that they were receiving, men seemed equally pleased with her appearance as they were with Ruby's. Taking a seat on the stool, Emma winced at how noticeably short the dress was, she shimmied in order to keep what little modesty was allowed in such a garment.

Ruby shrugged off her jacket before placing it in her lap. She fished out her ID from the small clutch she was carrying, careful to keep her cash from falling out. "First round's on me!" she chimed before turning her attention to the young bartender. While the girl was smiling and bubbly, Emma could feel something negative about her, but she figured everyone had something they weren't proud of.

"I'll have to see her ID," Tink said, point in Emma's direction. The smile was still on her face, but she looked serious. Emma just sat there, she had no form of identification, and wasn't even sure how to go about getting any.

"She doesn't have any, but she's of age, I swear," Ruby pleaded, giving the blonde puppy-dog eyes. "I know the owner, he knows I'm good for it." Ruby pushed out her bottom lip in a pout, dangling a twenty out to the girl as if bribing.

The girl looked at Emma and bit her lip, "I'll have to ask him," she started, returning her gaze to Ruby. "I'll be right back."

"You lost everything that night?" Ruby asked, distracting Emma from watching the girl walk towards the back of the club. Ruby's eyes were full of concern for her.

"Yeah," Emma replied, ducking her head. She hoped that if she still looked hurt by that night, Ruby wouldn't ask any questions about what had happened and how she had ended up here.

"Okay," Ruby said, nodding, placing her ID back into her clutch. "We'll work on getting you some sort of identification." Emma smiled at her friend as the blonde bartender returned behind the counter.

"He's okay with it," Tink stated, smiling at both Ruby and Emma. "He wants to know if you both would join him at his booth." Emma looked at Ruby, who had a playful grin on her face.

"His corner booth, right?" Ruby asked, sliding off of her stool. Emma hesitated, but followed Ruby's cue.

Tink nodded, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "Yes, and I'll bring your drinks over." Ruby tried to hand the girl some money, but she refused, nodding in the direction of the back corner. Ruby gave her a wink before grabbing Emma's hand, leading her through the ocean of dancing people.

"How do you know the owner?" Emma asked, yelling through the ambient noise of music and talking.

"We're friends, of sorts," Ruby replied, looking back at her briefly. It wasn't until Ruby reached out her hand to wave did Emma stop in her tracks, completely frozen by the figure waiting for them. "Oh, did I forget to mention he's ridiculously good-looking?" Ruby whispered into her ear, a large grin on her red lips. Emma reluctantly followed her to the back corner of the bar, where Killian sat waiting for them, a smug expression on his face.

"Nice to see you again, love," Killian said, motioning for the girls to sit on the curved bench. Ruby slid in first, allowing Emma to sit across from him. Ruby leaned over and allowed him to give her a quick peck on the cheek. Killian kept his eyes on Emma the whole time, his mouth practically watering at the sight of her.

"You too," Ruby replied, a slight blush on her cheeks. It was clear that the brunette had a fatal attraction to the man, the man Emma knew to be an archdemon, the Devil's second hand, so to speak.

"You must be the girl without ID," Killian stated, staring at Emma and crossing his hands on the table, leaning towards her. Emma gently nodded, looking at Ruby, searching for anything to do other than look at him.

"She's the one I was talking about the other day," Ruby said, smiling at Emma. "The one who recently moved here and works with me at the Diner." The brunet was trying to send him a message, but Emma knew she had told him more than that simple tale. Something seemed off about her in his presence. Emma could almost sense a small influence he had on the girl, and anger started boiling inside of her.

"Oh, yes, I remember," Killian said, a small smile on his lips. He briefly looked at Ruby before returning his gaze to Emma. "Any friend of Ruby's can consider themselves a friend of mine." Emma forced herself to give a short smile, before looking over at her friend. She was surprised by the blonde bartender, carrying a tray with three glasses on it.

"Three scotches, neat," Tink said, placing a glass in front of each person before nodding in Killian's direction and walking back to the bar.

Killian grabbed his glass and raised it up. Ruby mirrored him, and Emma followed, staring at Killian through the glass. "To new friends," he said before clinking his glass on theirs and taking a drink. Ruby repeated his words and took a sip, as well. Emma nodded in his direction before swallowing a large gulp for herself. She knew then that she wanted to make his existence an absolute torture for him.

Not long after Tink had brought a second round to the table did a man approach the booth, slowly. Killian watched the confident man like a hawk, destroying a part of the man's arrogance in mere seconds. "I was wondering if you would like to dance," he said, looking directly at Ruby.

Emma could tell that Ruby knew the man by the genuinely happy smile on her face. "Of course, Dr. Wale," she said, a playful tone in her voice. She looked at Killian and then at Emma, nodding that it was okay. Emma slid out of the booth to allow her friend to join the man. She liked Dr. Wale already, she could see he made Ruby happy, even if he didn't realize it. Emma instinctively sat back down in the booth, almost forgetting who was in her company.

"Don't worry, angel, "Killian said through his glass. "He's actually a good man."

"I know," Emma said, staring at Killian through angry eyes. She grabbed her glass and sloshed the contents inside. "Ruby didn't find me on accident, did she?"

Killian was surprised by her question, but didn't show it. "What do you mean?"

Emma leaned forward in the booth so she could lower her voice, "I just find it to be too much of a coincidence that the girl who found me just happens to know _you_." It clicked inside his head the moment she said it. It was something that he would do, but he had no part in her discovery.

"Emma, I had nothing to do with that. I only knew it was her that found you when I saw her bring you into the church with her grandmother." Emma closed her eyes, she had forgotten that his apartment building was across the street from the church, he had a perfect view of her that night. "I knew Ruby well before you appeared."

"Is she yours?" Emma asked, anger leaking into her voice.

"We can't talk about this here," Killian said in a whisper, knowing she was the only one who could hear it.

"Well, we need to talk," Emma said in a demanding tone. She had to understand the relationship between him and Ruby before she let herself ruin the only friendship she had.

"Alright," Killian said with a sigh, getting out of the booth and holding out his hand towards Emma. "Follow me, angel." Emma looked at his hand but didn't take it. She heard his low chuckle as he turned around and led her to a back room, which appeared to be an office.

"Is she?" Emma asked, increasing the volume in her tone. She was very aware of his eyes roaming her body, so she hugged the jacked around her and continued to stare at him.

Killian stared up and down her body another time before looking her in the eye, "We have casual, consensual fun from time to time," he replied with a shrug.

"So that's a yes, then?" She asked, even angrier at his reply. She didn't know why it upset her to hear that so much, but it struck a cord within her.

"No, she's not mine," he said flatly, leaning against the desk behind him. "She has faith, you know?" His fingers began tapping at the wooden ledge of the desk, making Emma uneasy.

"Yeah, I know," she replied softly, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, the farthest away from him. "Still, it can't be a coincidence that a girl you _have fun with_ is the one that found me."

"Maybe it was divine intervention, love," he said with a slight chuckle. He was amazed by his own wit at times. Emma scowled at him, but his words made her think, internal conflict starting to brew in her thoughts. "Too soon? My apologies," he added with a slight bow.

"She's the only person I have here," Emma whispered mostly to herself. She hugged the borrowed jacket closer to her frame, feeling the leather against her wounded back.

Killian pushed off the desk and sat in the chair next to Emma, kicking his feet up to rest on the wood. "I don't intend to take her."

Emma stared at him in disbelief, crossing her legs before facing his direction. "Why not?" She was stunned by his statement. She hadn't believed any demon from Hell would leave a girl who looked like Ruby for the mortals to have.

"Like I said, she has faith. And with you here," he started, crossing his hands in his lap. "I don't want a war with you, angel." Emma looked completely taken aback. He was willing to give up a prime target in order to keep from fighting her. Never before had she ever felt the slightest bit grateful to anyone of his kind, until tonight.

"Okay," Emma said, completely unsure of how to reply. She uncrossed her legs to switch sides, watching his gaze follow her movements.

"I have to give it to him," Killian said with a smile, shaking his head lightly. "You God really did give his angels excellent form." He gave her an arrogant smirk before roaming her body with his eyes for the tenth time that night.

"Excuse me?" Emma said, she couldn't believe he had surprised her a second time this evening. This demon was definitely different from all the others she had come across. She rose from her chair, putting a few feet in between them.

"You're quite brave," he said, standing up from his seat, as well. He kept his distance in order to keep her as calm as possible. "An angel as beautiful as you wearing something like _that_ is incredibly tempting to my kind."

Emma inhaled sharply, his words affecting her in a way she couldn't explain. It wasn't fear, but there was a fraction of danger, and there was something else she couldn't explain. She subconsciously pulled the jacket around her tighter, as if to shield her body from the demon's eyes. "Why are you saying this?"

Killian walked closer, so that he was standing a foot in front of her. "You're lucking there's no one else of my kind, well, caliber, here," He said in almost a whisper. She could see fire starting to burn in his eyes, but it wasn't anger, it was something else. The rolling flames came off sensual, almost like a burning desire. She took a shaky breath in, feeling the heat off of his body like standing in front of a fire.

"Am I?" Emma asked, hoping it sounded like a challenge, but she knew it came out more like a plea. He took a step forward, causing her to look up into his eyes, feeling his hot breath on her skin.

"Oh, yes," he replied in a whisper, nodding his head. "You're absolutely stunning."

Emma became uncomfortable, not by his words, but by how they made her feel. She kept feeling a stirring in her abdomen every time she felt his breath on her skin, every time he looked down at her with those eyes, and every word he said, did something to her. "Stop," she whispered, grabbing the jacket around her again.

"What are you hiding?" He asked, pointing towards the jacket she was wearing. She convinced herself to stop grabbing at it, and crossed her arms.

"It's cold outside," she said nonchalantly, averting her gaze from him.

"It's warm enough in here to not need one," he said, shifting his head to put himself back in her line of sight. She didn't say anything, she shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. He tilted his head before reaching for the jacket, grasping the sides to push it down her shoulders.

It took her a second to comprehend what was going on, but she gathered herself quickly. She shoved his chest as hard as she could, shrugging the jacket back up her arms. "Don't!" Killian had only been pushed back a foot, he walked back up to her, standing even closer this time and stared into her eyes. He could see the faint outline of white peering through the pupils, while he knew his own where fiery. She swallowed hard under his gaze, not trying to move away from him. He slowly reached his hands back up, grabbing the jacket at her shoulders and gently sliding the leather away. Emma held her breath until she heard the material hit the ground. The intensity of his gaze on her was burning, a welcoming heat that was pooling inside of her.

He let out a deep growl at sight of her body in only the dress, noticing the crucifix that rested between her breasts. "Show me," he said softly. Somehow, she knew he wasn't talking about her nude form. He wanted to see whatever she had been hiding. With tears on the brink of falling, she turned around, exhaling loudly as she did so. She heard a moan escape his lips that time, causing a clenching in her stomach. Killian used the tip of his finger move the blonde hair away from her back to rest in front of her shoulder. He remained silent, even though she knew he was studying her wounds. "How could your God mar such a beautiful creation?" he whispered, she could feel his touch just barely hovering over her skin.

"It's a punishment," Emma reminded him, tilting her head down, tears falling from her eyes.

"It's a sin," He replied, almost to correct her, anger in his voice. She felt his fingers trail over her wounds, but it didn't hurt. She welcomed his touch, breathing shallowly, hugging her arms to her chest. "There's nothing holy about this," he whispered into her neck. She could feel his breath against her skin, her body almost relaxing under his subtle touch. He felt an immediate desire to press his lips against her skin, to taste the broken skin of an angel. He was just as surprised as she was when he grasped her shoulders in his hands and bent his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to one of her wounds, and then the other. There was an intense pulse of power at his second kiss, causing them to separate instantly. She turned around to face him, a confused and surprised expression on his face to match her own.

He could see the fear in her eyes as she bent down to grab her jacket. He beat her to it, slowly holding out the garment to place it on her. She shook her head and ripped it from his grasp, throwing the leather on and walking towards the door. "Emma…" He said sensitively, reaching out to stop her. She didn't give him another glance as she shut walked out quickly, slamming the door. Once the door was shut he turned around and kicked one of the chairs. He was aggravated with himself, unsure of why he did what he did. It was almost like he had no control, but he was even more confused by why she let him. He didn't even know what had happened between them, what the surge of energy was. It had scared them both, neither seemed to understand what had happened. He kicked the chair again before sitting down, resting his face in his hands.

* * *

She looked frantically around the dance floor for her friend. She desperately clung to every memory she had of the man she left the booth with, hoping to at least find him in the hoard of people. After searching for what felt like forever, she felt a small hand grasp her arm.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" Ruby said, relief washing over her face at the sight of her. Emma did her best to appear happy, and not the least bit frightened.

"Sorry, I went outside for some air for a bit," she lied, feigning feeling warm. "Can we leave?"

Ruby gave Emma's arm a quick squeeze before nodding. "Yeah, let me go get my things. I'll meet you outside. Emma walked towards the door of the bar without a second glance behind her. She knew he wasn't watching, but she wanted to get away from him. She needed to think, to try to understand what had happened. Why she had allowed him to get that close. She hugged her arms around her body as she walked out into the night. A few minutes later, Ruby emerged, looping her arm with Emma's before the two walked towards her car.

"I'm sorry, I was just feeling a little stuffy," Emma said as she buckled her seatbelt. She was sure her friend was having a good time and felt bad for making her leave.

"Don't worry about it! It can happen sometimes, especially when you don't know anyone," Ruby replied, smiling at Emma before backing out of the parking space. "Do you want to come back to my place? We could watch movies again?" she asked hopefully.

Emma didn't want to hurt her feelings, but she really wanted to be alone. "Not tonight, I just want to go to sleep," she said, faking a yawn. Ruby laughed and nodded in agreement.

The girls said their goodbyes though the window of Ruby's car. Emma watched her drive down the street before she headed up the stairs to her room. Once inside the safety of her place, she broke down, taking off her shoes, jacket, dress, and underwear in a line leading towards the bathroom. The turned the shower on as hot as it would go, toying with the crucifix dangling on her chest, tears staining her cheeks. Emma stepped into the scalding water of the shower, trying to wash off the wonderful feeling of the demon's soft lips and rough stubble against her broken skin.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So... what did you think? The dialogue got a bit intense at the end, but I hope you guys appreciate starting the attraction between Emma and Killian. Please! Your reviews really do help me write these chapters! I get to hear what you like and what you want more of, so please, review! I'm so glad this story has received so many (for me) favorites and follows! I appreciate all who read the story! Until next time... -Bailey**_


	6. Chapter 6 - It's Only a Dream

**_A/N: Okay, so I know it's been a bit since the last update, and I apologize. I've been busy with school and other life matters. I hope this chapter makes up for it! There's a lot of feeling going on in this one, a lot of angst, and a lot of something hopeful! Again, the intent is not to make this a religious piece, or to disrespect any religion, however, the content of this story does require some use of religious content. I do intend to make this story dark, and the M rating will definitely stand. I appreciate all the dear readers who leave comments, favorite, and/or follow the story! You guys make me happy and remind me why it's fun to create! Enjoy!_**

* * *

 **Dance with the Devil**

 **Chapter 6 - It's Only a Dream**

 _She had never experienced anything like it before. She had never had strong hands touch her this way, stroking and kneading. She had never wanted anything more than she wanted to feel what a release would feel like, caused by someone else. She almost couldn't breathe, air flowing in in shallow pants, coming out just as shallow. The heat of his tongue gliding over the skin of her stomach made her moan aloud, enticing a growl from him. She had never wanted to burn so badly, never thought anything could feel this good, but be so utterly wrong._

 _His deft hands massaged her breasts as his mouth left a wet trail leading up her neck. He nipped at the delicate skin there before hovering his mouth over hers, watching her writhe underneath him. She flicked her tongue out to curl around his teeth, pulling him in. His mouth was molten and his body was as hot as fire, it was almost too much to handle. His gasps and moans into her mouth and she rocked her hips into his hardened length made arousal pool between her thighs. Her fingertips were glowing white as she scratched down his back, leaving lines of welts in their wake, he bit at her bottom lip in response. She could make out the faint smell of smoke every time he opened his mouth, the flowing swirls barely visible above them._

 _He growled dangerously, giving her one last kiss before licking and nipping his way back down her body. He circled her navel with his tongue, chuckling as her hips bucked under his chest. The feel of his stubble on her stomach stung beautifully on her lightly burned skin. He moved his attention to one of her hips, kissing along the delicate skin and scrapping his teeth down the edge of the slightly protruding bone. She reached down and took a handful of his thick hair, tugging it hard, knowing he enjoyed the pain. His groan vibrated against the skin of her lower stomach as he made his way to the other hip, repeating his actions from the other. She felt his hands against her inner thighs, spreading her legs apart gently. She forced herself to lift her head, wanting to see his face as he tasted her. She was met with the same handsome face she knew, his eyes no longer blue, but raging with a fire stronger than she had seen before. She watched him chuckle at her surprised face before he engulfed them both in flames._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Emma sat up in bed, breathing heavily and covered in a light sheen of cold sweat. The crucifix around her neck was humming, although she felt no hellish presence. She gripped the charm and held it close to her heart as she tried to control her breathing. She remembered the dream ( _shouldn't it be a nightmare?)_ vividly, every detail, down to the last smoke swirl. It hadn't felt like an ordinary dream, she swore she could still feel his mouth against her skin, hot and wet. She didn't believe that the dream was caused by what happened at the bar. She looked over at the clock on the bedside table, groaning when it read 6:35 AM. She knew she wouldn't go back to sleep, not wanting to finish what her previous dream had started. She slid out of bed, quickly finding jeans and a sweatshirt, sitting on the bed to tie her shoes. She was on the second shoe when she realized something. Angels could enter dreams and send messages to people, and demons could do the same thing. She hastily tied the second shoe in anger, knowing where her first stop would be.

It only took her ten minutes to walk to his apartment building, probably because she was close to running the entire time. She quickly ran up the stairs to his floor, coming to a halt when she was standing in front of the door. She banged on the door loudly, unable to control her anger any more. He answered the door quickly, wearing black pajama pants and a dark grey t-shirt. He looked worried as well, but Emma didn't notice it. Her fingers were thrumming with white energy as she wrapped them around his throat. She felt the vibrations of his feral growl under her palm and she pulled his face down, level with her own. He braced his hands on both sides of the door frame, keeping himself from falling under her grasp.

"Stay out of my head, demon!" she said in an angry whisper, her face inches from his own. She could hear the sizzle of his skin under her touch, faint lines of steam rising from his neck. She used all of her strength, dipping into her power a little, to shove him back into his apartment, slamming the door shut, as well.

Once completely out of the building, she took a deep breath. She couldn't believe she showed force like that, especially since he hadn't made any threats to her. She was angry, more at herself, for the dream, for enjoying it as much as she had. She gathered herself before making the twenty-minute walk to Ruby and Granny's house, letting the cool breeze ease her anger away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He still had no idea what had happened, even after his own door is slammed in front of him. He had managed to keep himself standing after she had shoved him back into his apartment, hand splayed against the wall next to him. He still wore a look of complete shock as he gently touched his sore neck. He walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. His throat was covered by a burn, in the shape of her small hand. He remembered seeing her fingertips glowing before her hand attacked his neck, the pain still vivid in his mind. He could already see signs of the wound healing, melted skin returning to normal. He chuckled a little to himself as he turned off the light, he hadn't expected her to try that on him. He had been awake when he heard the pounding at the door. He knew it was her before he even felt her presence. She had demanded him to stay out of her head, and he had an idea of what she was talking about.

Sitting back down on the couch, he could still feel the way her body moved under his own, the way his skin burned, without pain, against hers. He could still taste her skin on his tongue, feel her skin buzzing with shared energy. He remembered their tongues rolling against each other in one of their many heated kisses. He almost couldn't it had been a dream. He had awoken right before he had a chance to taste her arousal, just as he had surrounded them in flames. He had dreamed of taking her, claiming her has his own. Capturing them in the fire he commands, allowing the flames to lick their flesh without harm, allowing the heat to burn them from the inside out. And then it was over, he woke up to sweat covered sheets and a painfully hard cock. He could still hear her moans, causing his hardening cock to twitch. He sighed before walking towards the bathroom and turning the water in his shower as cold as it could go.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Emma rang the doorbell to the small house twice, hoping she wasn't disturbing the older woman. She waited a couple of minutes, pressing the button a third time. An irritated Ruby appeared at the door, covered in only a bed sheet wrapped tightly around her. Ruby's expression lightened slightly at seeing her friend, rubbing sleep out of her smudged eyes.

"Emma, it's like seven thirty or something, on our day off," the brunet said, almost whining. She shivered at the cool breeze on her exposed skin, opening the door wide enough to allow Emma to walk through.

"I know, but I figured we could go volunteer at the church this morning, like we talking about a couple of days ago," Emma said, rushing her words. She was trying to hide how frightened she was by her own dream, and slowly realized what her friend was wearing.

Ruby noticed her friend's looks at the sheet and ran a hand through her long hair. "Yeah, so the guy from the bar came over."

"The doctor, right?" Emma asked. Fear ran through her for a second before she remembered she had paid one of them a visit this morning already.

"Dr. Whale, yeah," Ruby said with a smile, color rushing into her cheeks. She started walking towards the living room, Emma followed, noticing the slightly open bedroom door where she could see a male form on the bed, under the remaining blanket. "So, what are you doing up so early? I dropped you off at your place at like one this morning."

"I just couldn't sleep," Emma replied, dropping her gaze a little. Ruby was still trying to wake up, her hair wild and mused from her night. "I see you didn't get much sleep either."

Ruby looked up at her friend and playfully shoved her arm. "Once I came back here, I was bored," she said with a shrug. She giggled a little. Emma could see that she was thrilled about her late-night endeavors.

"Are you up for coming with me?" Emma asked, changing the subject. She felt like she needed a mental cleaning from her very erotic dream with the demon, volunteering at the church seemed just the opportunity.

Ruby could tell there was something behind Emma's need to volunteer at this hour, but she didn't want to pry the already damaged woman. "Yeah," she said with a sigh. "Let me shower real quickly."

Emma watched her walk down the hall, clutching the sheet to her body loosely. "Don't forget to inform your friend," Emma said playfully, laughing at her friend's silence. She stayed on the couch, leaning back, daring to close her eyes. She forced them open immediately, images of the way he looked at her from between her legs swam into her vision. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing his body over her own or feeling his tongue against her skin. She reluctantly sat up and kept her mind busy with studying the features of the tiny house.

Ruby emerged from the hallway in half an hour, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair was still slightly wet, but she managed to look put together. "Have you eaten?" Emma shook her head, standing from the couch, stretching her arms above her head. "Okay, I'll make us some toast, that's pretty much all I can stomach right now."

"Sounds good," Emma replied, following her into the kitchen. Ruby made coffee before placing four pieces of bread into the double-toaster. She grabbed the butter and cream out of the refrigerator, fishing two plates from inside the cabinets.

"Did something happen last night?" Ruby asked with a yawn, pouring a small amount of cream into a coffee mug before handing it to Emma.

"No, why do you ask?" she questioned nervously, sipping the hot liquid carefully, almost hating that she enjoyed the burn.

"When you asked to leave the bar, you seemed anxious or something, and then you said you couldn't sleep," Ruby said, taking a sip from her own mug. "Just seems like something happened."

"I told you, I got a little stir-crazy. There were a lot of people in there," Emma said, trying to diffuse the subject. The toaster popped up the bread, stopping the conversation while the girls spread butter on each piece.

"Okay," Ruby said, squinting her eyes at Emma before taking a bite of toast. "So, what did you think of Killian?"

The blonde tried to appear unaffected by the sound of his name, but wasn't sure if she was successful. "He's alright." She tried to sound plain and uninterested, but her friend didn't seem to catch it.

"Just alright? Come on, he's sexy as hell," she retorted, a large smile on his face. Emma tried to not roll her eyes at the pure irony of the statement, only wishing she had someone who knew who he actually was.

"Sure, he was polite," Emma said, trying to appease her friend enough to drop the subject. Emma finished her toast and was sipping the last gulps of her coffee.

"Where'd you two go after I went to dance with Whale?" Ruby asked, finishing her breakfast and putting both plates in the sink, downing her last sip of coffee with Emma.

"Nowhere," Emma replied, too quickly, walking towards the front door. "Can we stop talking about him?"

"Of course," Ruby answered, a sly smirk on her lips. Emma knew she would have to give her a better story than that later, but right now, she just wanted to go repent for her sinful dream.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Emma wasn't sure what work needed to be done on a Friday morning, but she was willing to do anything. She hadn't been back to the small church since she landed in the quaint town, and she was surprised that it looked different than what she remembered. Although it wasn't a large gothic cathedral filled with sculptures and stained glass, the church provided a sanctuary for those needing faith.

The only indication that the building was a church was the cross ornament on the roof and the sign in the small yard by the street, _Storybrooke Catholic Sanctuary._ Emma had been surprised to see a catholic church, thinking that a small town like this would most likely be Protestant. She welcomed this, the Catholic worship was older, one she was more used to than the younger Protestant.

"It's Friday, so we'll probably help get things prepared for Sunday mass," Ruby said as she opened the wooden door. Emma stepped inside, expecting the airy embrace of holiness to wrap around her body, but it wasn't there. She had always experienced a heavenly sensation when stepping inside of a place of worship, almost as if her white energy was recharged. The absence of anything was unsettling, making her feel forgotten and abandoned. She kept herself together, even though she wanted nothing more than to cry on one of the pews, much like her first night here.

"Ruby, what brings you in, dear?" A woman with brown hair rolled into a bun asked. She had emerged from a back door behind the pulpit. Emma was surprised by her sudden appearance, she had been too deep in thought, looking around the church.

"Mother Superior, we're here to see if you need any help," Ruby began, walking towards the nun. "This is Emma, she's new in town." Emma pulled herself from her thoughts again to walk forward and shake the woman's hand.

"Good morning, Mother Superior," Emma said with a small smile, she always appreciated the mortals willing to give themselves completely to their beliefs. Emma watched the woman's face fall for a brief second when her hand brushed over the pale skin of her own. She pulled her hand back discreetly, feeling embarrassed, as if the nun knew who and what she was.

"Thank you for your offer, girls," the nun gleamed, looking back towards Ruby. I would love some help straightening things up before Confession this evening."

Emma stared at the woman. She had never participated in a confession like the mortals practiced, but maybe it would help her feel better. She smiled and nodded, crossing her arms across her chest. She started feeling pressure on her chest, almost as if a weight had been placed there.

"Great, we'd love to help!" Ruby replied, clapping her hands together in front of her. Mother Superior led the girls towards the backroom, where all of the supplies were held. The farther Emma walked into the church, the oppressive feeling became stronger, almost choking.

"Okay, so the confessional is needing to be dusted and wiped down, both sides. Emma, would you mind doing that?" the nun asked, looking at the blonde's timid manner. "And Ruby, I could really use some help organizing this closet." The girls looked around the room and noticed the disheveled appearance of everything.

Emma nodded her head and accepted the cleaning cloths and solution from the woman. "I'll get started then." Her friend gave her a smile and a short wave before turning around to face the nun. Emma left the room quietly and walked down the alley of the church, finding the confessional towards the back corner on the other side of the pews.

She stood before the large wooden box, a thin column down the middle giving the illusion of two separate pieces. She couldn't help but make the connection between the booths of the confessional and a coffin. By now, the oppressive pressure on her chest had increased. She was able to breathe, but she felt suffocated, not from oxygen, but from love, from joy. Pushing these feelings aside, she began wiping down the outside, polishing the wood with the cloth, cleansing the confessional much like it helps cleans the sinners that walk in. She began praying to her God, praying for forgiveness she knew wouldn't be accepted and for guidance she knew wouldn't be given. She prayed for her family, the other angels above, hoping they were completing the work and were all safe from Hell's wrath. The more and more she prayed, the more the pressure increased. Prayer usually released feelings of guilt, but now she felt as if it was causing her more pain.

"I don't know what's happening," Emma whispered to herself. Her emerald eyes were rimmed with tears begging to fall. She scrubbed the wood harder, as if she was wiping away her own pain and discomfort. She shouldn't feel unwelcome in the house of the lord, she should feel at home, more so than the small room she lived in now. Once she was satisfied with the outside, she opened the door that exposed the patron side of the confessional. The tiny space forced her to sit on the bench, closing the door. She was alone in the booth, small amounts of light peeking through small holes carved into the sides of the wood. Looking to her left, she could see the small window, covered with a thick wiring that hid the identities of both parties. She knew that side was reserved for the priest, but she was alone, no one to hear her sins. "I don't know what to do."

 _"Emma,"_ a familiar voice echoed in her head. The words made her jump, placing both hands on either side of the booth.

"Mary Margaret?" she asked, her voice a subtle whisper. She had mixed feelings about hearing her friend's voice, she was happy to hear her, but troubled by why. She wasn't supposed to be given any contact with the other angels, her family.

 _"Yes, I can hear you, I've been hearing you,"_ the woman replied. Emma shut her eyes, relishing in the relief she felt for being heard. It was almost as if a warm blanket had been placed over her cold, dull body.

"I've missed you, I've felt so lost," the fallen angel said, pressing her forehead against the side of the booth. She placed a palm next to her head, as if Mary Margaret was on the other side, placing her hand opposite of her own.

 _"You are lost, Fallen one, but you can find your way back home,"_ Mary Margaret stated, her voice low and serious. She sounded just as disappointed as when they talked before Emma's trial.

"How?" the blonde asked, squeezing her eyes shut, keeping tears behind closed lids. "I don't know how, everything feels different, I feel different."

 _"You are different, Emma,"_ the other woman began, voice tender and stern. _"You are no longer righteous, no longer have the Holy power behind you."_

"Then how am I supposed to save anyone?" Emma questioned, the volume increasing in her voice involuntarily. "How am I supposed to serve my sentence?"

 _"That is not a question for you to ask, or for me to answer_ ," the angel said, her voice remaining a light whisper, despite the gravity of the subject.

"I don't understand," Emma said softly, more to herself than to the other woman. She led a tear fall down her face and land on the wood of the confessional. If everyone felt this way while in here, why did they return?

 _"It's a punishment, Emma. You must look for the answers to the questions you ask. You'll find your goal in due time,"_ the other angel answered, her tone never changing. Emma felt a hand touch her shoulder lightly, as if a feather had landed on it. She reached her hand to grasp at whatever touch she could feel, but felt nothing.

"I'm so confused, I have no direction, no leads," Emma said, sitting up, looking at the skylight carved into the top of the booth.

 _"This punishment is much like a journey,"_ the other angel began, her voice floating in the back of Emma's head. _"There will be trials and temptations, but you must continue on. In order to succeed, you must find yourself in the end."_

"He's here, the one I made the deal with." Emma said without thinking. She secretly despised herself for mentioning him, but she needed answers.

 _"The Deputy, yes, we know,_ " the woman replied, her voice had gone flat at the mention of him.

"Is he part of my punishment, is he a trial I have to face?"

 _"Does he feel like a trial, or a temptation, Emma?"_ the woman's voice changed, and it became judgmental, as if she knew something. Emma could almost see the short-haired woman's disappointed face, her concerned eyes.

"I don't know," Emma replied in defeat. She felt ashamed for not knowing the answer, but there were so many mixed feelings about him, and the way she felt in his presence, she couldn't describe.

 _"We all felt it, Fallen one,"_ The woman's voice chimed, making Emma freeze on the bench. _"Even the Evil ones felt it."_

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. She was certain of what the angel was talking about. She was positive it had to do with the power that pulsed when his lips touched the wounds on her back. "I don't know what happened."

 _"That's not the issue, Emma. You let him touch you,"_ Emma couldn't deny the angel's words. She had let him take the jacket off, let him see the shameful wounds she was bound to wear, and she hadn't moved when his lips touched her skin. She had nothing to say, she didn't want to try to defend herself, so she bowed her head in shame, waiting for Mary Margaret to keep talking. _"The road you choose to take during your sentence is yours to make, just remember to find yourself in the end, Emma, or you'll be lost forever."_

Emma felt the weight on her chest release as the angel finished her sentence. She felt immediately lighter, but not any more enlightened than before. She knew her friend, her sister, was gone, that her brief moment with her was over. Not only had she disappointed the woman by being banished, but she had already hit a bump in the metaphorical road to her redemption. She was failing, nowhere near succeeding, and she had no idea how to start trying.

She quickly pulled herself together, the divine energy from the moment drained her. She cleaned out her side of the booth before moving towards the priest's side. She didn't sit in it, only opened the door and wiped down the inside. She made sure the entire confessional appeared shiny and welcoming before walking back towards the supply closet. She found Ruby alone, reaching to place a can on the highest shelf of the rack.

"Emma," she said, straining through her stretch. Once the can was in place, she took a deep breath as her friend replaced the cleaning products. "I'm all done, if you're ready to go."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Emma replied, plastering a fake smile on her face. If she had felt lost and abandoned before, she felt it even more now. The conversation with the other angel proved to be nothing more than a simple warning. A warning that she wasn't succeeding and that her closeness with the demon was made aware to everyone.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She said goodbye to her friend before getting out of the car. She told Ruby to call the good doctor back, and apologize for stealing her away. Ruby's smile only proved that he really was a good man, that Emma didn't have to worry about her in his company.

She closed the door to her room silently, entering the dimly lit area slowly. She was deep in thought, wondering what she was supposed to do with the little knowledge that Mary Margaret had provided to her. She had told her the road she took was hers to choose, as long as she found her way. While this seemed an optimistic way to think, Emma couldn't help but see fine-print in those words. If she could really go about her sentence any way she saw fit, then what was the warning for?

With no one to talk to, it bothered her to want to talk to the demon again. She was furious at him, but not for the dream. It had occurred to her, much later, that he had nothing to do with it. He had appeared just as confused as she had been, only slightly happier about it. She had to admit to herself that she enjoyed having her hands around his neck, letting her white energy burn into his skin. He hadn't fought back, but didn't submit, and that made her want to do it again. She pushed the thought of him on his knees, in front of her, eyes burning with desire, out of her head. She needed to talk to him, needed to tell him what the angel had said.

She was almost to the door as a thought popped into her head. She had been able to hear him, the night of the deal, but just that one time. She wondered if his kind could communicate with angels in the same way. Although people prayed to get an angel to listen, demons were summoned, mostly by name.

Sitting on her bed, she closed her eyes, and pictured him in her mind. "Killian, if you can hear me, I need to talk to you," she left her statement short, hoping he would take it was urgent. She opened her eyes and felt no change in the energy of the room. She didn't feel his presence, and she really hadn't expected to. It was the short knock on her door that made her jump, slightly startled.

She opened the door to find him standing there, arms by his sides, wearing all black. "You summoned me, angel?" He asked, giving her a sarcastic bow, a smirk plastered on his lips. Emma rolled her eyes and opened her door, allowing him inside, she could hear him chuckling as he walked past her. "So what do I owe the pleasure?"

Emma closed the door and turned to face him. She couldn't help but notice the way the black fabric of his shirt clung to his body, how a small amount of black hair peaked through the V of his shirt. "What did you do?"

Killian sighed loudly, tilting his head back in annoyance. "What have I done now?"

"Don't feign ignorance," Emma said coolly, stepping a few feet closer to him.

"If you're talking about the dream, that wasn't me," he said, scratching behind his ear. She hated herself for finding it to be a charming quirk.

"No, I know that wasn't you," she said, chewing on her lip. "Now," she added after his disbelieving look. She simple shrugged her shoulder at him, he nodded in reply.

"Then what is it that you think I've done?" he asked, holding both arms out by his sides. She caught herself staring as the fabric stretched across his chest and how his arms curved perfectly in all the right places. She shook her head slightly, it was almost as if her eyes were looking on their own accord, she was no longer in control.

"Whatever that _energy_ was last night, in the office," she added, beginning to pace in front of him.

"What about it?" he questioned, shifting his weight from one foot to the. She could see he was just as uncomfortable about it as she was.

"Let's just say I received a short visit in the confessional booth at the church this morning, and I was told everyone _felt_ it." She continued to pace, chewing at her lip, giving him a short glance before averting her eyes to her shoes.

"A short visit from who? And what do you mean by _everyone_?" She looked up at him, seeing the obvious confusion on his face. She could see his fingers fidgeting at his sides, his thumb rubbing circles onto the pad of his middle finger.

"One of the angels I was closest to, she didn't appear, but I could hear her," she started, her pace quickening as his own anxiety increased. "She told me that whatever that pulse was, it was felt by my kind, and yours."

Killian's expression didn't change, only his head tilting to one side gave any indication that he had heard her. "That's interesting," he seemed to trail off in thought. His eyes

Emma stopped pacing, looking at him in total disbelief. "Interesting?" she asked, voice shaking with anger. "That's all you have to say about what you did?"

"I'm just as confused by that as you are," he stated, trying to keep his voice down. He couldn't be mad at her, he knew that blaming him was her only option. "I wish I could give an answer."

Emma could hear the sincerity in his voice. He looked utterly confused and conflicted, obviously this was all new to him, as well. "So what does this mean?" she muttered to herself, not caring if he had heard her or not. She hugged her arms around her body, looking down at her feet, shaking her head slowly. She didn't have to see his shoes come into view to know he had stepped closer. She could feel the heat rolling off of him in waves.

He slowly raised his hands, placing them on her upper arms, squeezing lightly. "Emma, we couldn't have known…"

"Of course we could have!" she screamed, violently pulling herself out of his grasp. He didn't try to move forward, lowering his arms, almost as if defeated. "We're supposed to be enemies! We're not supposed to be close." While her face expressed anger, the tears staining her cheeks exposed something else. Something that he was able to notice before she allowed her walls to cover any emotion.

"But we're not enemies, are we, Angel?" he asked softly, bravely stepping towards her again. He approached her gently, seeing how conflicted she was already. She refused to meet his eyes, keeping her gaze faced downward, breathing quivering and shallow. Once he was close enough to touch her, he lifted one hand, gingerly caressing her cheek in his burning hand. The tears on her face hissed and evaporated under his embrace, but it did not burn her. "Answer me, Emma." He helped lift her face to look into his eyes, his face more serious than she had ever seen.

Emma surprised herself by leaning into his hand lightly, not feeling the expected fear, but feeling relief instead. "No, we're not." She noticed the slight grin that appeared at the corner of his mouth, but his lips quickly evened out. He nodded at her slowly, licking his lips before descending towards her face, exhaling smoke. Just as she could feel the warmth from his lips hover over her own, she turned her head, causing him to immediately stop his intentions. She kept her eyes closed, afraid of seeing disappointment on his features.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, removing his hand from her face, clenching it into a fist at his side. "I'll leave," he expressed, hastily walking to the door of her room. "I'm sorry," he whispered, again, before walking out and closing the door quietly.

Emma stood where he had left her, fingers pressed to where she had wanted his lips. It had taken every ounce of strength for her to turn her head, to keep herself from doing the wrong thing. She had never wanted anything more than to really feel his lips on her skin, to see if it felt the same as from her dream. She couldn't have imagined that she would have considered him anything other than an enemy, but he was right, they were not enemies. She just had no idea _what_ they were. The real struggle was that she wanted redemption, she wanted to return home, but she wanted to sin with him more than anything, she wanted him to make her feel something other than the guilt and pain she felt constantly. She wanted that demon to take her innocence away, and it scared her beyond her own imagination.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I hope you liked it! I enjoyed writing this chapter, and I've already got something brewing in my mind for the next! Violence, anyone? Anyways, leave me reviews if you wish, I do love them, so! PM me if you'd like as well, I love communicating with you guys. I hope to keep you all on the edge of your seats, it's a great feeling, isn't it? ;) Until next time, -Bailey**_


	7. Chapter 7 - Reign of Darkness

**_A/N: So, here we are with another update. Fair warning, my dear readers: This chapter contains violence. If you are easily TRIGGERED by depictions of torture and other gruesome details, this might not be for you. This is a dark chapter, but serves to further the story and increase the connection between our two favorite things :) Again, it is violent, bloody, and disturbing; my love for horror got the best of me here. You have been warned._**

* * *

 **Dance with the Devil**

 **Chapter 7 - Reign of Darkness**

 _Fear Me_

 _I Am Destruction of Innocence_

 _I Am the Violence Embedded in Flesh_

 _I Am the Pain in the Bones of the Mortal Shell_

 _The Dark Heart of the Earth_

 _I AM HELL!_

 _-Reign of Darkness, Thy Art is Murder_

She couldn't lie, she was impressed by how he left. It wasn't like a demon to act like a gentleman and back down from a situation that had appeared to go too far. The problem was that she was the one who turned away, she was the one who didn't say anything after he apologized, and she was the one who didn't try to stop him. But why was she hurting from it? It had been an hour since he had left, a dreadful hour of hating herself for not saying anything, and hating herself even more for wanting to. Even though it was only mid-day, she felt exhausted, not from lack of sleep but from the emotional rollercoaster that was becoming her life here. She toed off her shoes and stripped the sweatshirt off. She peeled the jeans off of her body before discarding her bra from under the over-sized shirt (a trick she had learned from Ruby), keeping her shirt and underwear on. She slipped into the cool sheets of the bed, allowing the frigid cotton to cool down her heated skin.

Dim light trickled through the curtains, but it didn't deter her efforts of lulling off into a deep sleep. She didn't want to dream of his body on top of hers, but she felt her mind imagining how he looked under all of the black, wondered how hot his mouth would really be. She took a deep breathing, accepting her attraction to him and allowing her mind to wander wherever it pleased.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She was pulled back into consciousness by a very light vibration of her crucifix. With her eyes still closed she fumbled with the metal, confused by its acting up. It only vibrated when a dark presence was around, but it wasn't vibrating nearly strong enough for it to be Killian. She shook her head to wake herself up further, as far as she knew, he was the only one of his kind in the area, so the vibration didn't make sense. She opened her eyes to a dark room, the clock on the table reading nine pm. It was the longest she had slept since she had been here. Sitting up in the bed, she fumbled around to turn the bedside lamp on. Once the room was lit in a dim, yellow glow she noticed something was different. There was something in the air that she couldn't quite make out, everything seemed to have a slight film over it, as if there was something floating in the air. It wasn't until she was awake enough to smell the slight scent of sulfur in her room, a horrible stench that didn't belong to the only demon she knew to reside here.

There was no time to prepare before she felt the searing pain and a heavy weight on her chest. All she could see was a blur of something dark walking around her, but she wasn't able to focus on what it was before it moved again. She felt a smaller burn on the center of her forehead, keeping her body pinned to the bed. Whatever power she had within her was completely useless against whatever was pressed against her body. The blankets were ripped from the bed, leaving her exposed in only the shirt and underwear. Hot, burning hands ran up her legs, leaving red burns in their wake. She did everything not to scream, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

"What a nice treat for me," the man sneered, his hands gripping at her hips, smoke rising from his touch. She managed to catch a glimpse of the man before he had turned away. He was a tall, thin, rat-like imp. He was one of the commoners in Hell, the workers. She was usually stronger than his kind, however, that was before she became a Fallen. "Such a pretty Angel."

"What are you doing?" Emma asked, trying to keep a level voice. She didn't want him to sense she was scared, didn't want him to realize she was weaker.

The man came back into her line of view, cocking his head to the side. "I'm just doing what any creature of Hell would do upon finding such a lovely being as yourself," he said, excitement evident in his voice. She could see where his hands had left burn marks on her skin, whatever was on her chest and forehead was keeping her from beginning to heal.

"What do you expect to get out of me?" Emma asked, raising her voice. She lifted her head as far as she could, trying to figure out what could possibly be weakening her power and holding her down.

The man watched her struggle, laughing at her inability to do anything. "Oh, don't even bother trying, Angel," he mocked, returning his attention to her exposed legs. "I've got you pinned."

"What is it?" she asked herself, lifting her arms heavily to try and touch the object on her chest. It was hot and rigid metal, in a shape she couldn't quite guess.

"It's funny, actually," the imp replied, moving his hand to trace a finger along her collar bones, leaving a trail of burnt skin behind. "A symbol so powerful to your kind can deal such damage when it's simply turned upside down," he finished, twisting his other hand in the air. She immediately knew what the object on her chest, and most likely on her forehead, was. A wrought iron cross turned upside down and placed on the chest and forehead could render divine creatures weak or powerless.

Emma closed her eyes, for the first time since she arrived, she knew she was in real trouble. She did everything to keep her mind of the pain of the iron and the pain of his touch, but she had nothing else to think or feel. With her eyes closed, she could hear the clinking of metal and the sound of something else, something wired. She lazily opened her eyes to find him standing over her, black barbed wire in his hands. "Who are you, Imp?" she asked, green eyes wide, face determined.

"Walsh," he replied, eyeing the crosses on her chest and forehead. He removed the cross from her forehead and quickly looked the barbed wire around it. He gave Emma an evil smirk before slamming the cross back into the burn marks it had left. She cried out as he wrapped the ends of the wire around her head three times, creating a crown of thorns, the upside down cross in the center. She whimpered as the barbs pierced her flesh and she could feel her blood running down her face and neck. "Regina sends her regards."

"What?" she whispered, inhaling shakily. Through her bloody vision she could see Walsh grabbing a longer wheel of barbed wire, walking back towards her.

"Oh, come on, Angel. She said you would remember," he said, increasing the volume of his voice. Before she could say anything else she felt his hand around her throat, lifting the cross with the other hand. There was a few moments of relief as the heaviest of the symbols was lifted, she was able to breathe and the pain subsided slightly. While she relished in the slight relief, there was a large sting across her chest where the cross had burned through her shirt and into her skin.

"I remember," she said weakly, watching him wrap the barbed wire in an X pattern on the arms of the cross. He pressed the cross back in its place firmly, allowing the burn and ache to be accompanied with the sharp stabs from the wire. He grabbed her by the hair, dragging her to her knees on the floor. She could see blood trickling from her head on the ground, and blood running in thin lines down her torso. With a hand still gripping her hair, forcing the barbed crown deeper into her skin, he began wrapping more of the barbed wire around her chest and waist, keeping the larger cross sturdily in place. She screamed as dozens of barbs stabbed into her chest and ribs, blood pouring in thick trails down her body. Her vision was blurry from pain and blood, her throat was hoarse from screaming and crying out, and her body felt broken.

"Keep screaming, Angel," Walsh taunted into her ear and he secured the wire around her back. "I've made sure no one can hear you in the building."

"You think you'll get away with this?" Emma's face was pointed down, hanging low in physical defeat. She could still feel him smirking above her, silently laughing at her plight.

"I know I will," he said, grabbing her arms and folding her hands behind her back, pushing them into the barbs. She cried out but was quickly stopped by his hand pulling her hair forcefully. "You see, I know you've Fallen, and I know that no one is coming to save you."

His words hit her harder than his torture, because he was right. Typically, angels helped their fellow kind whenever they were in trouble. Fallen Angels were not given that luxury, and received no form of help, no matter their dilemma. She was going to die at the hands of an Imp, and she couldn't do anything about it. She was truly alone with the creature, and she was at his mercy. "It appears you've done your homework, Imp," she said as strongly as she could. She tried to give him a sarcastic smile, knowing she must look mad with the blood covering her face. She couldn't control what he did to her, but she could control how she took his beating.

She heard the rustling of the metal again and felt the searing pain as it touched the delicate skin of her wrists. Each link had a miniature upside down cross etched into it, keeping her from being able to break free. She felt him meld the ends of the chain together, keeping her wrists pressed together tightly. The flesh on her arms was being stabbed and scratched by the barbs, furthering her suffering even more.

He pulled her up by her hair, turning her body around to face him with his grip. "We're going outside, now," he started, staring into her eyes with beady black holes. "You make any sound and I'll make sure to pay that pretty friend of yours a visit."

Emma's eyes widened in horror. She couldn't let Ruby fall prey to the sick bastard in front of her. She had to make sure she was safe, she didn't deserve to be taken to Hell, to have her soul ripped from her, and to have her body used for whatever He willed. "You'll leave her alone?"

"My orders are for you, but I am allowed to do whatever it takes to kill you," he said, almost as if repeating a line he was given. "Will you keep quiet?" Emma nodded her head in a reply, wincing at the crown digging into her head. He drug her by her hair to the door, the door opening for them to exit through. There were no lights in the hallway of Granny's Inn, and all the doors opened for them until they exited the building, leaving the back way in order to not have to go through the diner. Once outside, Emma saw that none of the street lights were on, she was immersed in complete darkness with the imp behind her, she was in his territory.

Without a word he urged her forward, the barbs pressing deeper into her flesh, blood rushing out of the wounds. She walked as steadily as she could, the pavement was cold and rough under her bare feet, and the walk reminded her of the night she fell into the town's vicinity. She wished it was raining, thinking that the cool water would help soothe the pain she felt.

"Where are we going?" she asked in a hushed voice, making sure that the imp would be the only one to hear her.

"A familiar spot," Walsh replied, no inflection in his voice. He kept a firm grip on the back of her neck, his fingers sliding sickly in the fresh blood flowing down. Emma kept walking and the time went by faster than she had assumed it would. They were on the outskirts of town before she knew it and they were nearing fields scattered with trees, no doubt to keep them covered from the town.

What is that?" Emma asked, worry laced in her words. They were well out of earshot from everyone in town, so she wasn't afraid to speak up. About one hundred meters in front of her was a wooden shape she couldn't quite make out.

Walsh chuckled behind her, a dark, treacherous laugh. "Something that will take you closer to your maker."

Emma swallowed hard, her throat feeling a little tighter at his words. As they walked closer, she was able to make out the wooden cross sticking out of the ground. It wasn't built tall, but short enough for her to be placed against it. Panic set in and she tried to struggle free, to no avail. Once they reached the foot of the cross Walsh shoved her to the ground, laughing as she crumpled and struggled to return to her knees.

"What is it that you think you're accomplishing?" she yelled, trying to rotate on her knees to keep him in her vision. He was fumbling around with more metal pieces that had been hidden in a bush by the cross. He ignored her as he continued to organize the metal, deep in thought.

"I've been told to make you suffer," he said, standing slowly and walking back towards her. She tried to scoot away from him but he grabbed her by the neck and pulled her up to her feet. Keeping one hand on her throat, he reached behind her and melted the bond in the metal chain, allowing the links to peel off of her burned skin. She gasped at the pain but was quickly taken aback by the imp pushing her back into the wood of the cross. The screamed as the barbed dug into her skin and the wood, slightly anchoring her into place. Walsh placed a leg in between her own in order to keep her body still while he grabbed one of her hands and placed it at the end of one of the arms of the cross. "I've been told to take what you took from Regina all those years ago. Her last shred of innocence."

Emma stood horrified by his words. She hadn't believed Regina to be behind all of this, but it was true. She found out what she did in order to save Elsa. "She's alive?" she muttered, barely registering what Walsh was pulling out of his pocket.

"Something like that," Walsh replied, bringing a six inch spike into Emma's line of sight, allowing her to see the metal heat up until the end was burning red and white. Emma's eyes widened in horror as she realized what he planned on doing. The hand that held her wrist to the wood tightened, keeping her arm in place while she desperately tried to free it from his grasp. Her weakened state hindered any ability she had that could save her, and pure fear settled into her bones. She cried out as the white-hot spike pierced the skin and bones of her hand, nailing her to the wooden cross. She continued to scream and pant as he laughed at her, keeping her upright with his thigh pressed into her hips. "One more."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the metal heating up in his hands, feeling the warm blood flow from the wound, slowed by the spike. She yelled and fought him with every ounce of strength she could muster as the second spike slid through her hand languidly, searing the skin in its path. Walsh stepped away from her to admire his work, forcing her to stand on shaky legs to keep from pulling at her nailed hands. The crown of barbed wire and the small inverted cross was nestled into the skin of her head, blood, fresh and dried, streaked her face, leaving her almost unidentifiable. The larger inverted cross on her chest, bound by cage of the same spiked wire, poked and stabbed into her with every shallow breath she took. Her body was a bloody mess, her hands bleeding and deformed by the spikes running through them. The imp took pride in crucifying this Fallen angel, hoping that it pleased his handler.

"I'm sorry," Emma whispered through gasps of strangled air. She could feel a lung filling with blood, her vision blackening from the trauma. Her head hung low, looking all like the statues that covered the churches of her crucified Father.

"It's too late for apologies, Angel!" Walsh yelled, bending down and retrieving a long iron rod from the ground. Without looking her in the eyes, the imp walked back over to her, wrapping the same metal chain around one of her ankles and spiking it into the ground. He repeated the process on the other side, effectively spreading her legs, forcing her to stand on her tip toes to keep from pulling on her hands. "Oh, what a lovely sight," Walsh chimed, staring at her from head to toe.

She no longer had the strength to reply to him. She stood, barely conscious, just wanting the pain and the torment to end, but she knew that the imp was far from finished. She had never imagined her immortal life would end like this. She had pictured that she would die fighting for the mortals that she loved and cherished, never had she thought her end would come at the hands of a lowly imp doing the work of someone she had betrayed almost a century ago. She couldn't help but smile at her predicament. A Fallen Angel, being crucified on a wooden cross, by one of Hell's creatures. The sick irony was almost humorous, almost enough to make her accept her fate.

Picking up the metal rod, he held it out in front of her, allowing her to watch as he heated the tip to the same white hot level he had with the spikes. "I know you're one of the Innocent Ones, or, at least, you _were_ one of them," Walsh started, rolling the rod around in his fingers. He took a few steps closer to Emma, enough for her to feel the heat rising from the metal. "It's time to take that innocent from you."

Her blood ran cold. She stared at the molten metal in his hands and almost threw up. She knew exactly where he planned to place the rod, and she knew exactly what form of innocence he was taking from her. Innocent Ones were required to never lie with anyone, they were to remain pure of mind and body, and she had made sure she remained physically pure. "No, no, no, please," she begged, struggling against all of the restraints holding her to the cross. Walsh gave her a devilish grin before dropping to his knees in front of her, reheating the rod to its scorching level. "No, please! No!" she screamed louder as he continued to move the rod closer to her virgin center.

"I'm doing this three times," he said without hesitation. He held eye contact with her, enjoying watching her squirm. "Imagine it to be the Holy Trinity. This will be The Father, next will be The Son, and the last poke will be The Holy Spirit," he finished with a huge grin, clearly proud of himself for being so witty.

He started to trail the rod of her leg, flesh singing and burning from its path. "No, no!" she cried out again, doing everything she could to try and escape. "Killian!" she called without thinking. She cried for him unconsciously, and she surprised herself by summoning the demon. Walsh suddenly pulled the rod away from her skin when he felt the presence of the powerful demon appear.

Killian appeared seconds after she summoned, clearly confused by the location he had brought himself to. He looked around before finally finding the one who called out for him. Walsh stood up, back so straight it could break. Emma watched his blue eyes transform from the color of the ocean to a fuel-ignited inferno the second he made eye contact with her. The fists by his sides became surrounded in fire and every muscle in his body was contracted, ready for the fight.

"My liege!" Walsh exclaimed, dropping to his knees at the site of the archdemon. "Please, come join me. I found a Fallen Angel!" Walsh seemed desperate for the more powerful man's approval and he motioned for him to approach Emma's crucified body.

"You are required to request permission to perform such acts in my territory," Killian said, his voice deeper and darker than usual. Emma could see that the inside of his mouth looked like a burning coal, black and red, smoking, and glowing in the darkness of the night. She could see his fire-filled eyes staring her down, and she hoped he was there to help.

"I was on Regina's orders, Deputy," Walsh replied, still on his knees. "Please, take what you want from her, she's half-gone anyway." Killian shot the imp a dangerous glance as he walked past him and advanced towards Emma. She could feel the heat of his body burning all of the wounds on her own, but she felt relief wash over her at the same time.

"Killian," she whimpered as she gazed into the flaming depths of his eyes. She had never seen him so turned, she had never seen him turn into the hellish deputy that he was. The mixture of fear and desire that coursed through her veins at the sight of him helped keep her awake, helped keep her alive. "Please, help me."

He heard her begging but it didn't seem to register. His mind had lost any sense of controlling his infernal nature. All he saw was a divine entity spread before him in a tempting state of vulnerability. There was a pull in the back of his mind urging him to not take the angel before him, but he didn't understand why. He was sucked into his role as Deputy, his role as a creature of Hell that fed off of the sins of others and the blood of the divine. He brought his hands up to her own, tracing a circle around the spikes shoved through them. She whimpered against his touch, the pain almost subsiding under his fingertips. His hands roamed up her arms, slowly, until they cupped each side of her face, sticking in the blood covering the skin.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Walsh asked his superior, keeping his distance behind him. Emma could see the imp standing off to the side, still cowering on his knees in Killian's presence. "Do you like what I've done with her?" Killian's flaming eyes stared her up and down, taking in her tortured appearance with an expression she couldn't figure out. He looked conflicted between desire and rage, and she could tell he was fighting his instincts.

"Killian, it's me," she whispered, leaning into one of his hands, pleading with her voice and her eyes. "It's Emma," she begged as a last ditch effort, closing her eyes, letting a tear fall down her cheeks and into her hand.

Killian's head twitched at the sound of her name, his grip on her face tightened slightly, reassuringly. "Emma," he breathed, his glowing red mouth billowing smoke as he spoke.

"Yes," Emma said, nodding her head as vigorously as she could with the crown. She could see his face softening, she could see him beginning to comprehend the events going on around him. Keeping his hands on her face, he looked around him, taking in the cross, the barbed wire surrounding the inverted crosses on her chest and forehead, the chains separating her legs, her barely clothed form. He returned his gaze to her eyes, the fire in his own growing stronger. He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb before stepping away from her, turning his attention to the imp kneeling behind him.

"Do you like what I've done, Deputy?" the thin creature asked, keeping his gaze down, bowing his head at Killian's approach. The archdemon remained silent as he stepped in front of him, hovering, exuding power. Without saying a word he grabbed the imp by the throat, dragging his body violently towards Emma. The imp was kicking and screaming to no avail, Killian was stronger and more powerful, able to hold the lowly creature without trouble.

He forced Walsh to his knees in front of Emma on the cross, his side facing her. Killian stood in front of the imp, the fire in surrounding his hands burning brighter, his eyes were a raging fire, smoke flowing from his nose and scorching mouth. He turned his face towards Emma, the grip on Walsh's throat ever-tightening. Through the fire, Emma could see hate and remorse in his eyes, and she felt his warming embrace wrap around her soul.

"Regina ordered it," Walsh gasped with the little breath he was allowed to take. Before he was able to form another statement, his body burst into flames from Killian's grasp. The imp screamed at the top of his lungs, crying out from the pain of burning. Emma watched as Killian controlled the flames, making Walsh's suffering last as long as it could. She could see his skin melting from bones, eyes oozing out of their sockets and clothes becoming one with the burning flesh. Walsh was held down and burned until he was nothing but a pile of dust and bone fragments. The fire around Killian's hands subsided and his mouth no longer glowed like a burning ember. His eyes were returning to blue when he looked back at Emma's bloody form nailed to the cross.

"Emma," he muttered under his breath, rushing forward, grabbing her wrists in his hands. "Try to be still, I'll get all of this off you." She nodded her reply weakly, vaguely aware of her surroundings. She could feel his hands all over her sore body, she could hear him curse quietly, but all she could see was a blur of black in the night. He fumbled with the barbed crown on her head, burning through the thin metal, carefully peeling the spikes out of her skin. She whimpered quietly, knowing that the pain couldn't possibly get any worse.

He couldn't believe how much blood was covering her head, face, neck, and shoulders, just from the barbed crown alone. She was almost unrecognizable with her eyes closed, but when she opened her eyes, he could see her in them. The wounds from the crown freshly bled once the piece had been pried from her head. He noticed the burned inverted cross on her forehead before lowering his gaze to the large one on her chest. He could see that she was losing consciousness, so he had to work quickly. He melted through the barbed wire on each side of her torso, hoping to be able to peel the cage off in two pieces. He pulled the front of the wire wrapping, the portion that held the iron cross. He could see that the metal had burned through her shirt and into her skin, exposing her sternum and upper chest.

"Stay awake, Angel," he whispered into her ear, trying to remain calm. He feared for her, he feared that she had gone through too much, that she wouldn't recover. He carefully pried the rest of the barbed wire from her torso, minding the small space between her back and the wooden cross. Bending down, he pulled the spikes from the ground that held her chained ankles spread. The only remaining pieces from her torture were the spikes going through her hands, keeping her nailed to the cross. "It's almost over," he reassured, pressing his body against hers to keep her held up. She groaned as he pressed his weight into her tender body, wanting nothing more than for the pain to go away.

He readied himself to pull the spikes out, knowing that this would be the most difficult part. With one hand wrapped around her, he used the other to yank the spike out of her left hand. She cried out into his neck, trying to breathe deeply. She heard the metal hit the ground with a thud as he switched his hands on her back. He grabbed the spike in her right hand, pulling it out quickly. She felt her head lull back against the wood before he scooped her up into his warm arms. Her vision started turning dark as he walked, she could vaguely hear him talking to her, but she didn't have the energy to care.

"Thank you," she mumbled just before she lost her battle with unconsciousness and her mind went numb.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

All she felt was a stinging pain around her head and chest and a soft glide of silk beneath her. Her hands were beyond sore, unable to make a fist or move her fingers much at all. She pried her eyes open to a dark room, a room that wasn't the one she had at Granny's. As her vision adjusted to the dark, she could see a figure sitting in a chair on the far side of the bed she was in. She winced as she tried to sit up, falling back into the soft sheets in defeat.

"Don't try to sit up, love," his voice rung out, breaking the silence. She could feel him moving from his seat to kneel next to her, he was otherwise quiet. She could make out the outline of his form, from his shaggy hair to his muscular frame, knowing his too-blue eyes were staring into her green ones.

"What time is it?" she asked hoarsely, swallowing thickly through her dry throat. The palms of her hands began throbbing as she became more and more alert.

"It's four in the morning," he stated, his accented voice falling softly into her ears. She sighed with relief, licking her chapped lips. Almost as if he had read her mind she felt a hand lift her head up gently while a glass was pressed to her lips. She gulped down the water, sighing appreciatively when her head was placed back onto the pillow. She felt his fingers hover above her lips, desperately wanting to wipe the drop of water away, but he pulled back. "You need your rest," he said, backing away from the bed and returning to his chair.

"I need answers first," she replied, following his movements in the dark. She watched him bow his head slightly before regaining his typical composure.

"Emma, you've just been through…" he started, fisting his hands under his chin. He was obviously uncomfortable about the direction the conversation was going, but she didn't care.

"I need to know!" she yelled, wincing from the force of her voice. She tried to sit up again, but failed. Killian walked back over and propped more pillows behind her head and shoulders. He moved to the end of the bed and sat next to her feet, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. Emma could see the discomfort he held in his shoulders, she could tell he wanted nothing to do with any of her questions, but she knew he would answer them.

"What is it you need to know, Emma?" he asked, annoyance laced lightly in his voice. He wanted more than anything to comfort her pain, but this was more complicated.

"Regina," she blurted, trying to keep her anger in check. "That imp said she ordered his actions, that she was alive."

"Aye, she is," he added, his hands gripping the edge of the bed fiercely.

"Explain," she commanded, her voice flat and emotionless. Emma felt the concern and worry rise in her chest, but decided to wait for his reply.

"The night I took her, well, He saw something in her," Killian responded, sighing regretfully. "He saw potential for greatness, so He kept her."

Emma stared at him through limited vision, imagined him clenching his jaw while speaking. "Like a slave?" she asked, her voice hushed and muted.

"No," he chuckled, laughing deeply in his chest. "She's much more than that."

"What do you mean?" she questioned, confusion obvious in her tone.

Killian bent forward, forearms resting on his knees, shaking his head slightly. "She's, essentially, His Queen." Even in the darkness he could feel her mouth fall open in complete shock. "Yes, I'm serious."

"Why didn't you tell me?" hurt was laden in her voice. They didn't have the rapport that friendly acquaintances had, but she had expected him to inform her that the girl she sacrificed was still alive.

"I didn't find it to be pertinent information, love," he responded, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he shifted. "But I now see the error of my ways," he stated, sarcasm rolling off of his devilish tongue. She rolled her eyes at him, trying to find a lamp to turn on, wanting a small amount of light after her events of darkness. Before she could move an inch from where she was, the room was washed in a bright light.

"Thanks", she muttered, squinting her eyes at the change from darkness.

"We can talk about Regina at another time, Emma," he stated from his spot next to her bed. She could clearly see him kneeling next to the bed, close to her face. There was concern written all over his handsome features, a genuine concern for her wellbeing. She wasn't sure how to feel about a demon worrying about her, but she knew she liked it.

"You're right," she murmured, feeling exhaustion sneak its way back into her mind. She swears she could see a small smile on his lips before he nodded his head.

"Get some rest, Angel," he whispered, reaching a hand to turn the lamp off.

Emma moved quickly, placing a wounded hand on the arm reaching towards the lamp. "Thank you, Killian, really."

"There's no need for that," he said, eyeing her hand on his arm. The hole left from the spike was slowly healing, but the fresh trauma was still visible. He went to trace a finger over the broken skin but stopped himself, settling for wrapping a hand around her delicate wrist.

"No, there is," she whispered, squeezing his arm lightly. "You saved me."

He looked up at her, his blue eyes swimming with emotion he was holding back. She was transfixed in his gaze, the way he looked at her made warmth roll over her body and a fire ignite in her lower abdomen. The desire she felt for him was hard to avoid, even with her injuries. "I would do it again, Angel, don't fear summoning me."

She nodded, smiling before he turned the light off, squeezing her wrist before walking back towards his chair. She slowly eased herself back down in the bed, making herself as comfortable as she could. "Are you going to keep watching over me?" she asked, slightly joking with him.

"Emma, I don't think I can let you out of me sight now," he replied, the seriousness of his words felt heavy on her chest. She believed him, and it didn't frighten her. It made her happy to know he cared, made her feel comfortable in a world she felt alone in. The demon before her saved her from one of his own, even killed him for her. He had watched over her for hours, making sure she was safe from more harm. For the first time, she could feel the depth of the feelings they shared, and she wanted more, even if it condemned her to life on Earth.

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 _ **A/N: I hope no one hates me for what I've done to this chapter. Haha. I told you, it was going to get bad. I hope there are those who appreciate the moment for what it was and see that it played out the characters in a way no other scene would. Are we enjoying the interaction between Emma and Killian? Enjoying the journey they are going through, not sure if they can allow themselves to care for the other? Anyways, let me know your thoughts and/or concerns in the reviews, or PM me. I love hearing from you guys. Until next time, -Bailey**_


	8. Chapter 8 - Comfort

_**A/N: Okay, so here it is. FINALLY! I'm so sorry for the wait! School and the holiday got in the way and the chapter kept getting delayed. I hope you guys like this one. I should start warning that I do not beta these chapters, so if there are mistakes... i'm sorry. Also, I'll start posting trigger warnings in this intro's in order to make sure readers only read what they want. Nothing too crazy this chapter, more like a recovery for the last one. Happy reading!**_

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Emma's eyes opened slowly to the shadowy room, lit only by the overcast light shining through the sliver of the curtains. Her whole body was an aching mess, parts of her stuck to the silk sheets, no doubt dried blood plastered the material to her skin. She felt his gaze even before she could register his shape in the same chair he had been in the last time she woke up.

"How are you feeling, love," he said softly, staring at her intently. He was leaning forward in the chair, elbows propped on his knees, his hands entwined and resting at his chin. She wasn't surprised that he was still there, when he had told her he couldn't let her out of his sight, she knew he meant it. Honestly, she wanted him to stay there, watching over her. In his presence, nothing from his kind could touch her, she knew that to be true. After all, he had come for her, he had saved her from an imminent and horrible death. Only him.

"Like hell," she replied, giving him a small smile from one of the corners of her mouth, using her elbows to push her up the bed until she was almost sitting up.

"I'm sure," he chuckled, returning her smile. Her joke had not been lost on him, and it made him appreciate this kind of rapport that they were sharing. "You look it, as well."

She gave him a pout before laughing a little, wincing immediately from the pain around her chest and torso. She could see strands of blonde hair covered in dried blood resting on her chest, her burnt shirt did little for her appearance. He could see her face drop as she studied the wounded hands resting in her lap. The hole had healed itself, but the wounds were still deep and dark red, charred skin surrounding the outside ring. Killian stood from his seat and walked towards Emma in the bed, sitting down next to her hips, facing her.

"It's not so bad," she said, seeing the concern on his face as he got closer. He reached for her hands, gently placing them into the palms of his hands.

"You've healed quickly everywhere else," he said, turning her hands over by her wrists, inspecting the wounded palms. "Your hands are healing slowly, though."

Emma shrugged, staring at him from under black lashes, emerald sparkling through. "I guess these were bad," she said, trying to stretch out her fingers, jumping slightly in pain.

"What you went through, Emma," he started, rubbing his thumbs lightly over the knuckles of her fingers, lifting his gaze to meet her green one. "I haven't seen that kind of cruelty in centuries."

"I don't want to talk about it yet," she blurted, pleading him to listen with her eyes. He licked his lips and nodded, understanding her wanting a break for it.

"I'm sure you'd like to clean up," he stated, placing one hand back in her lap while standing, still holding the other. "I'll gather a towel and some clothes for you." Emma graciously accepted his help in standing. When she struggled more than expected, he came closer, wrapping an arm around her back and lifting her to her feet. He kept his arm around her as they walked towards his clean, articulate bathroom. Emma admired the larger shower with frosted glass, noticing how clean and tidy everything was.

"Thanks," she said, walking into the bathroom and onto the crisp tile. She turned to see him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed just below his chest.

He gave her his signature smile, adjusting his arms and stepping away from the door. "There's a towel hanging on the shower door, I'll bring some clothes and put them on the sink." She nodded before he walked back towards where his bed was.

Emma turned on the light and pulled the door to, unable to grab the knob to close it completely. The person in the mirror, while bloody and tarnished, was definitely her. Dried blood matted her hair, the deep reds and browns contrasting with her light hair. Her face was covered in the same dried blood, cracking and flaking off. She could see where her barbed crown had stuck into her head, the holes had healed, leaving shiny, pink scars, jagged, but faint. She knew they would eventually disappear as well, but it would be another day. The inverted cross that had been there left a faded, white mark. While most people would never notice it, she knew it would always be there, barely visible, but a daunting reminder. She imagined her chest and ribs would look the same, speckled in jacked, pink lines, with a larger white inverted cross branded into her chest.

If she had still been a righteous angel, the crosses wouldn't have left permanent marks, but being Fallen allowed her to be branded and marked by any power, good or evil. She inspected her hands under the bright light, noticing how slow the healing processes was for the wounds there. Two large wounds on the tops of her hands and on the palms, no longer holes, but barely covered by healed skin and bone. Just looking at her hands made her cringe, the blasphemy of it all was sickening. Gathering her wits, she tried to shimmy out of her marred shirt without using her hands to grasp anything. She tried for what seemed like an hour before accepting defeat.

She sighed, pulling the bathroom door open with her wrist on the knob. "Killian," she called out, resting her forehead against the edge of the door. She hated being this dependent on anyone, especially him. Before she could say anything else, he was in her line of sight, carrying a small pile of clothes.

"Sorry, love, I was trying to find something that could fit you," he replied, holding out his arm to give her the pile. She happily accepted, placing the all black pile on the sink counter.

"It's fine," she stated, "I was actually calling for help." She averted her gaze towards the ground. She knew she shouldn't feel shy or nervous about it, but she was. Killian helping her with the shirt seemed an intimate request, one that made her stomach flutter and her skin flush.

He gave her a confused look before glancing at the shower. "Of course, you can't turn the water on with your hands," he muttered, gently moving past her to turn the shower on, making sure the temperature wasn't too hot.

Emma tilted her head back, grateful he had thought of that. She would have had to call him back in, and she didn't think she could handle that. "That, as well, but," she started as he turned back to face her, waiting for her request. "I can't get my shirt off."

He nodded at her knowingly, he was aware of her nervousness, and he found it fairly flattering that she felt anything but indifference. He walked back towards the door so he could face her back. He took in the torn cloth that covered her, the long shirt hit her at the tops of her thighs, covering _just_ enough. He moved her hair over a shoulder with one hand, much like he had in the office of his bar. He felt her tense and relax as his fingertips grazed her clothed skin gently. He found one of the larger holes in the shirt, grabbing the edges with both hands and pulling. The thin fabric fell apart easily, splitting down the middle from the neckline to the hem. He saw her skin react to the coolness of the room, goose bumps easily visible. The pink lines and dots from the healed barb wounds were scattered across the pale skin of her upper back and ribs. He hated to see her beautiful skin so damaged, hated the pain she endured even more. She is a divine being, one that didn't deserve the torture Walsh had dealt. He placed his hands on the tops of her shoulders, right at the junction of her neck. He radiated warmth into her cool body, watching her skin liven under his touch. He swore he heard a small moan, but didn't think too much about it, he was simply enjoying touching her without her running away. The long and thick marks from her wings being clipped were healed scars now. Pink and slightly shiny, they stood out against her skin, scars that had dealt more than just physical pain.

He used his hands to slide the cloth off of her shoulders, her arms kept the material pinned over her breasts, wanting to keep her modesty. He surveyed the dried blood flaking from the skin of her back, noticing the long lines leading from the scars, staining the top of her underwear. He felt his breath hitch as he noticed the small amount of fabric covering her well-formed ass, the small dimples that indented on her lower back called to him. He allowed his fingertips to trail down her back, his thumbs resting in the indentations. His fingers wrapped around her hips, squeezing there lightly. She let an audible moan escape her lips at his touch, pressing herself into his chest.

It was his turn to moan as her lithe form molded onto him, heat roaring into her soul. His hands moved up her body, resting at her narrow waist, thumbs massaging the muscles along her spine. Almost without thinking, he bent his head down until his lips hovered over the side of her neck. She shuddered as his hot breath danced over the delicate skin under his mouth. He cautiously let his tongue slip past his lips, holding his breath as he tasted her flesh and blood.

A soft cry escaped Emma's lips as she felt his searing tongue run along the top of her shoulders and neck. He squeezed her waist before wrapping an arm around her stomach, his other hand moving up to cup her shoulder. She no longer felt any pain, no longer remembered the events of the previous night, and no longer cared about the sin of it all. She adjusted so one arm could keep the shirt covering her chest while the other reached down at her side, her hand grasping at the back of his thigh. He moaned into her touch, pushing his hips forward while squeezing her gently. Neither noticed as the small room filled with steam, the shower a forgotten ambient noise.

She was burning from the inside out. She could only pant as his wicked tongue continued to lick at her blood, his lips making contact and sucking lightly. Her mouth parted as she tilted her head back, resting it on his broad shoulder. He had moved his way up to her pulse point and jaw, his tongue running the length of her jawline. Every nerve in her body was on fire, raging with a desire she had never felt before. She felt neither divine energy nor demonic power, instead she felt a purgatory of pleasure and numbness that she never wanted to part from.

Killian felt as close to the divine as anyone of his kind could ever be. The inferno that raged inside of his body was fueled by her energy, the passion he felt for her, and the desire to have her. Emma's blood tasted like the sweetest nectar, a delicate, but powerful flavor. There was something highly erotic in tasting her blood, a sensation he had never experienced with the blood of other angels. Her cool hand on his heated thigh helped ignite him further, but soothed him enough to maintain control. He loosened his grip, turning her around in his arms. He kept their hips pressed together, his arms resuming their tight, but gentle, hold on her body. Killian lifted his head away from her neck, looking into the emerald pools, a hint of glowing white shining through her pupils. He couldn't believe how much he wanted to kiss her parted lips, to taste her soul and feel her power.

When she looked up into his eyes, feeling his hot breath on her cheeks, she knew they had an undeniable connection. She had wanted to ignore it, wished for it to disappear, but it only grew with each time she saw him. She wanted more than anything to just give in to him, to just allow herself to feel everything she knew she would feel, but she couldn't. Staring into his blue eyes, fire trying to keep itself at bay, she saw both peace and evil, a serendipitous reminder of who they were: a fallen angel, and a demon. Her mind was made up before anything else could happen. The intensity of his gaze was reflected back at him, the desire was reflected, and need was there, as well. However, there was something else in her eyes that didn't mirror his own: hesitation, uncertainty.

He knew he could have her, he knew she wouldn't move away from his kiss this time. Without a doubt he could be tasting her, his tongue could be slipping against hers, his teeth on her lip. The uncertainty in her eyes was enough to stop him. When he had her, he wanted her to truly want him, to have no doubts in their actions. Now wasn't the time, she needed more time, and he could wait. He knowingly nodded at her, smiling lightly before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"It's okay, my angel," Killian whispered, fingertips tracing the contours of her cheek. The inside of his lips were stained red from his tongue hydrating the blood on her skin. She couldn't help the clenching in her lower abdomen at the site of him with blood-stained lips.

"I just…" she started, chewing on her bottom lip. She could still feel his warm touch wrapped around her, and she wished it didn't have to end. She wished she could give in, completely accepting of the consequences, but she wasn't. She wasn't sure if she was ready to give everything up for him.

He moved his thumb to trace her bottom lip, much like he wanted to do with his tongue. "I understand," he assured her, loosening his grip around her body. His face never expressed anything other than genuine understanding and care. "Get cleaned up, I'll be here when you're done." She gave him a smile before he turned around and walked down the hall. She pushed the bathroom door to, immediately feeling the loss of his body heat, cool air hitting her heated flesh. Her reflecting in the mirror almost seemed unnatural; her pale skin had a healthy flush, fresh skin poking through all the dirt and blood form where he had licked her clean.

Letting the ruined shirt fall to the ground, she used her wrists to, slowly, shimmy out of her blood stained underwear. His shower was much larger, and cleaner, than the one she used at Granny's, and she was grateful to have the space to stretch out under the warm water. She allowed the water to cleanse and sting at the remaining scrapes and cuts on her body, tenderly holding her hands under stream, flushing out dirt and dried blood. She watched the water surrounding her feet tinge with red as he skin was cleaned, the faint smell of copper and sweetness filling the steam surrounding her in the shower. It was the same smell that the wetness from Killian's tongue, lapping at the dried blood on her skin, had created, a scent only they could smell. She could still feel his devilish tongue, smooth and strong, against her neck, remembering the feeling it had caused between her legs.

She quickly tore herself from her thoughts, panting slightly while she turned the water off, gently lifting a towel from the rack with her forearm. Drying off proved to be a challenge, but she managed, leaving only her back still damp. The shirt he left for her was soft and loose, making it easy to slip into and didn't hug her still-sore body. The gym shorts were stretchy, making them easy to pull up. The demon had narrow hips, so the shorts weren't terribly large, the bottoms hit her just below the knee. She looked ridiculous in his clothes, and she had never worn black before, but she liked the stark contrast between her pale skin and the dark color.

The smell of coffee tingled her senses as she pushed the bathroom door open. Coffee was one of the mortal beverages she had come to enjoy thoroughly. It was warm, strong, and always made her feel alive. Along with the heavenly scent of coffee was bacon and eggs. She had grown quite fond of bacon since she arrived, and she started walking a little faster in anticipation. The sight of Killian, the Devil's Deputy, plating eggs and bacon was nothing less than a marvel.

"Ah, just in time," he exclaimed, the corners of his mouth rising slightly while placing two plates across from each other on his small kitchen table. She walked to the table slowly, watching him put two steaming mugs next to each plate. He waited for her to approach the table before sitting down. The way his clothes hung loosely off of her body, but fell softly on her curves made his body react in ways that made him glad he was sitting down.

"This is unexpected," she said, smiling softly, scooting forward in her chair. "But much appreciated," she added, grabbing a piece of bacon off of her plate and taking a generous bite. She closed her eyes and moaned loudly. She did love bacon.

"Certainly," Killian responded, biting his bottom lip as he watched her enjoy the piece of meat. Her reaction did nothing to help ease the tightness he was experiencing in his pants.

She sighed before opening her eyes, a satisfied grin across her supple lips. She noticed his eyes on the verge of blazing and how his bottom lip was between his teeth. If she didn't know any better, the demon seemed to be a little flustered. "I do love bacon."

"I'm quite fond of it, myself," he agreed, digging into the fluffy eggs on his plate. Failing desperately at keeping his eyes off of the skin peeking out from the V in the shirt she had borrowed, or how her lips moved while she chewed. He suddenly felt like a child trying to control the inevitable erection from seeing a beautiful girl.

They finished breakfast in a comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles occasionally. Never in her centuries of life had Emma ever imagined she would be having breakfast with a demon, civilly, for that matter. She wasn't uncomfortable, being in his apartment, in his clothes, eating breakfast he made, she was mostly skeptical of it all. She wanted desperately to believe that they could have something, a friendship of sorts, wanted desperately to have the company of someone that knew what she was, but she didn't want to be naïve. After all, he was still what he was, and she was still what she was.

After clearing the plates, they both sat back down at the table, enjoying a second cup of coffee. Killian suddenly reached into his pocket, as if he had forgotten about something. Emma watched him place a small device on the table, pushing it to slide directly in front of her.

Emma looked at him quizzically, placing her fingers on top of the device. "It's a phone," he stated, taking a sip of coffee. "I figured you didn't have one yet."

"I know what it is," she replied defensively, grinning a little. Her hands had healed a little more since her shower, but she still had a hard time picking the phone up. "I've played around on Ruby's before."

"Well you won't find any of her bloody bullshit on that one," he said, shaking his head at remembering all of the apps and games the brunet had on her phone. She pressed the small button at the bottom, lighting the screen to reveal a background consisting of blue sky and white, wispy clouds.

"You're giving it to me?" she asked, keeping her eyes glued on the screen. Her fingers danced over the background, completely immersed in the breathtaking view.

"Yes," he said, leaning forward slightly. "I thought you would like a reminder of home," he muttered, noticing her concentration on the screen.

She tore her eyes away from the phone, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, looking back down at the phone. It was bittersweet seeing the sky and clouds so beautifully pristine. On one hand she missed her home terribly, missed the holiness of everything, the purity and the divine, but on the other, it was a place that had thrown her out, abandoned her, and left her to suffer. She wasn't quite sure if she should still consider it home anymore.

Killian admired her appreciation for the gesture, taking in how beautiful she was with her face lit by the screen. "I've programmed Ruby's number in there, as well as Granny's," he said, watching her navigate through the phone, finding out everything on her own.

"As well as yours," she said, looking up through dark lashes and grinning at him.

"I figured if you ever wanted to grace me with conversation, this might be easier than summoning me," he stated, bringing one hand up to his face, thumb toying with his bottom lip.

"I thought you enjoyed being summoned," she said, raising an eyebrow in question.

"From the right people, for the right reasons" he replied, eyes darkening as he spoke. "But with you, I don't want to be put in that mindset in front of you again." He looked down at the table, unable to hold eye contact with her as guilt washed over him.

She felt the tension, felt the shame he was hiding in the stiff muscles of his shoulders and arms. "Killian, it wasn't your fault," she said firmly, forcing his eyes to meet hers once more.

"I could have killed you," he expressed flatly, holding her stare, the muscles in his jaw clenching as if he were trying to hold back words.

Emma watched his hands clench into fists on the table, smoke seeping out of the small cracks between his fingers. "But you didn't, you saved me," she assured him, trying to keep her voice level. She wasn't able to express how grateful she was to him. None of her kind had showed up for her, no one had come to help, and only Killian saved her from the imminent and horrible death she had been about to face.

Killian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking back at her, fire on the brink of exploding from under the deep blue. "I wanted to kill you." It was a dark confession, a horrible truth that was the cause for his shame. Before he had realized it was the fallen angel on the cross, he had wanted to ravage the broken beauty before him, swallowing her soul and engulfing her body into a fiery hell fit for her kind. He could still feel the electrifying tingle course through his arms as he had touched her pierced hands. The desire to take her had almost been too much, but he had heard his name escape from her lips in a whisper, dissolving the demonic hypnosis he had been under. Her green eyes had appeared through the haze, and then the rest of her face, his recognition of the angel had hit him like a wall. Feeling the imp deteriorate under his grasp and smelling his burning flesh had been a satisfying reckoning for what he had done to Emma.

"Killian, you went against your nature to save me," she pointed out, tentatively reaching her hand out to cover his fist on the table. His skin was burning under her sore palm, but it seemed to sooth the dull ache away. "No angels came for me, no miracle occurred, but you came when I called, and you made it end." A single tear had made its way down her cheek, leaving a glistening line in its wake. He wanted to wipe it away, to ease her pain away, but he knew he couldn't. Nothing could get rid of the total abandonment she was feeling. "I owe you more than I can give," she finished in a whisper, her fingers dancing absentmindedly across the top of his hand.

A short smile spread across his lips as he watched her delicate fingers move across his hand with all the grace her kind exhumed naturally. "You don't owe me anything, Emma."

She removed her hand after realizing what she had been doing, feeing the loss of heat and relief instantly. "I refuse to accept that," she said, shaking her head and leaning back in the chair.

"Fine," he stated pointedly, folding his hands together on the table. "If I should ever need your assistance, I'll call on you. Deal?"

"I'll help you, but I'm not making any deals with you," she exclaimed, frowning at him before flashing a brilliant smile.

He chuckled lightly, appreciating her sense of humor. "Fair enough."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Emma had stayed with Killian another hour before deciding to head back to her room. She enjoyed his company, but the domesticity and closeness had been beginning to feel too comfortable. He was still a demon, no matter how friendly they had become, no matter how he made her feel, no matter how beautiful he was, he would always be evil incarnate.

He had forced her to take a sweatshirt, black, of course, before her departure, explaining how the too-long sleeves would cover her hands from the view of any passersby. She was more than grateful as she walked down the back streets and alleys towards Granny's, the sharp, cold wind stung at any exposed skin it could find. She managed to get back to her room without being spotted, unsure of what she would have said about her appearance.

She unlocked her door painfully, wishing she had let Killian escort her home if only to open the door. The skin was still red and broken, but her hands were healing more rapidly than they had overnight. In the back of her mind, deeper than her conscious would allow her to consider, she wondered if her small tryst with the demon had something to do with it. It was cold and quiet in her room, the lamp still on from when Walsh had taken her. She cringed at the blood on the floor and on the sheets, walking over to sit in the small arm chair in the far corner of the room. Crossing her legs under her, she pulled out the phone Killian had given her. She found Ruby's name and pressed the call button, waiting for her friend to answer.

"Hello?" the brunet answered, questioning the unknown number appearing on her screen.

"Hi, Ruby, it's Emma," the angel replied, adding a small amount of fake cheer in her voice.

"Emma? You finally got a phone?" her friend asked, excitement laced in her words. Emma could hear that she was walking, the woman's heels clicked on the sidewalk.

"Yeah," the blonde laughed, nibbling at the sleeves of her borrowed sweatshirt. It smelled like spice and smoke, a unique scent that reminded her of its owner. "It was time, now I don't have to walk to your house to make plans."

Ruby laughed on the other end, sniffling in the cold mid-morning air. "Speaking of plans, I'm meeting Victor for lunch at the hospital in a bit. Would you like to come?" Emma knew her friend was smiling into the phone. She seemed to really like the good doctor.

"No, I'm good, but thanks though," she said, feeling happy for the girl. "I was actually calling to see if it would be too much of a problem to call in sick tonight?"

"Oh, no, what's wrong?" Ruby asked, concerned for the blonde.

"Nothing horrible, but I think I have some sort of a virus, and I don't think I should be handling anyone's food," she lied, looking down at her hands. She should be fine to work tomorrow if the healing continued at this pace.

"Oh, yeah, just stay home, I'll tell Granny," Ruby agreed. "Can I bring you anything? Soup or something?"

Emma was so grateful to have a friend like her. She still hadn't pressed her to talk about the night she found her broken and bloody, and she appreciated the distance Ruby gave her. "No, I'll be okay, but thank you," she replied, getting up from the chair to pace the room.

"Okay, well, get some rest," Ruby ordered with a sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely," Emma assured, playing with the curtains hanging over the large window in the room. "Have a good time with Victor."

"Will do!" the brunet exclaimed, her voice jumping an octave higher. "Bye, Emma."

"Bye," she said with a chuckle, ending the call and setting the phone down on the window sill. She cared for Ruby more than she thought she would, wanting to keep her safe from darkness because the brunet had comforted her in her time of need. She had hope she would be able to, now that Killian had said he would leave her alone. She still felt jealous that he had been _intimate_ with Ruby, but she wouldn't let that knowledge affect her friendship.

Emma surveyed the damage in the room for twenty minutes, noting the ripped sheets and blood stains on the floor. She would have to get the mess cleaned up, hoping she could sneak downstairs to the washing machines one night without anyone noticing. She sighed, suddenly bored within the silence of her room, the once comforting softness was now a harsh reminder of the traumatizing event ordered by Regina. It hit her hard that she didn't get all of the answers she wanted about Regina from Killian. She couldn't blame the woman for wanting her dead, and Walsh had been right about everything. Emma had given up the last bit of Regina's innocence to a demon in order to save Elsa. Not only had she betrayed one of the people she was supposed to protect, she had also turned her into something evil, a force to be reckoned with. Emma shook her head, she wouldn't dwell too much on the subject. Not until she could think about Regina without guilt making her feel sick, hoping that feeling would go away one day.

Emma felt a cool breeze dance across her face. She turned around to face the window, confused by the wind when she found it to be closed. There was a thrumming inside of her heart, a delicate vibration that felt welcoming and oppressive, right and wrong. The room became brighter without the help of electrical lighting or the sun, a golden glow coming front the center of the room.

"David," She muttered, walking towards the large figure appearing from within the golden aura.

"Hello, Emma," David's voice expressed through the blinding light. She recognized his shape, the golden armor he adorned that covered his chest, wrists, and shins, a holy force protecting him from the evil he battled against. The overwhelming urge to run and hug her heavenly brother was stopped by the expression written on his face. "We need to talk."

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 _ **A/N: So... tell me what you think?! Please?! Your reviews are like the sweet treats for my inner fat child :) Any recommendations or thoughts? Feel free to PM me, as well. Until next time, my dark ones ;) - Bailey**_


	9. Chapter 9 - Wrong Side of Heaven

_**A/N: I apologize for the long wait, so I hope this longer chapter makes up for it. I can guarantee that there is a bit more excitement in this chapter, and I hope that you'll be excited for what is to come for the characters. I appreciate all of the reviews you guys right! It makes my day to see those in my inbox! I love them so much! So... enjoy :) (Also, the bold, italicized text in the story is to signify a text message, please let me know if there is a better way to write that out for you guys) THIS IS UN-BETA'D, AS THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS ARE, SO SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES.**_

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" _I'm on the wrong side of Heaven_

 _and the righteous side of Hell."_

 _-Wrong Side of Heaven, Five Finger Death Punch_

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Killian was glad that Emma felt well enough to go back to her room, but he would be lying if he said he had been hesitant to let her leave. He was serious about never keeping her out of his sight after the incident with the imp, but she had assured him she would be fine. At least he knew she would call for his help if she needed it, at least she promised him she would.

It was almost unsettling how attracted he was to her. He had never had a connection like this with anyone, never wanted to before now. He felt things he never knew his black heart could feel, and he wanted to explore them with her. He understood her hesitation and denial, but it was beginning to sting in his newly awoken heart.

For the first time in his many centuries of life, he felt a certain anxiousness squeeze around his damned soul. He enjoyed spending time with the fallen angel, more so than his kind was supposed to. Fallen angels were nothing more than a prize to win, a challenge to be defeated by having what was left of their holy, but broken, soul pulled down into the harshest depths of hell to suffer or serve for eternity. He felt lighter, kinder, in her presence, and he feared he was growing soft in her company. The Devil's Deputy could not be kind, he had to remain the monstrous evil he had become, or he would surely have to fight for his position. Emma was different, he didn't want to conquer her, he didn't want to damn her further, he just wanted her, wanted her soul and body. He would willingly take what good was left from her, but he would hold her damned soul and keep her as a companion and lover, to roam and rule the earth together.

He would admit that there was something intriguing about the righteousness that was left in her. The forbidden desire between holy and evil could be powerful between them, could create something almost magical, and would most likely raise havoc among her kind. It was a constant struggle to keep his burning hands away from her, but the few touches he was allowed didn't burn her, and that was only because she welcomed his hands, welcomed his embrace, and accepted their opposing power. He would never want to cause her pain, but the mental image of Emma's pale body lightly marked from his touch thrilled him to no end.

He walked back into the kitchen, cleaning up the pans and dishes from their shared breakfast. While washing a pan, he contemplated what he would be doing tonight, considering going to his bar to watch the townsfolk engage in sin and debauchery under the safety of darkness and an overwhelming urge to go against their better judgments. Killian always exuded an aura that brought out the patrons' naughtiness, and he thrived in the power their sin wafted out into his chest. He smiled to himself, hoping that he could convince the angel to come out and enjoy a few libations and striking conversation with the bar owner.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He was every bit the archangel Emma remembered, standing over six feet tall, solid frame, and an intimidating presence. He was the Heavenly enforcer, the Commander of the other archangels, God's soldiers. David had requested Emma's assistance on many missions down to Earth, having her fight alongside him as a powerful Innocent, armed with an influential faith rather than the brute strength he had. David's appearance was welcomed, but not without question, for him, like Mary Margaret, wasn't allowed to visit one of the Fallen.

"How are you here?" she asked, remaining where she stood. She could feel the pull to fall on her knees before him, but she held out, not wanting to appear as lost as she was.

"I'm willing to accept the consequences for my actions here," he stated, keeping his arms by his sides, voice commanding. "I know that Mary Margaret reached out to you while you were confessing."

"She wanted to help me," she whispered, trying to defend her sister as best she could, knowing that David could, if ordered, punish the small woman.

"No, she wanted to warn you," he corrected, stepping a foot closer to her. Emma felt her knees waver under her weight at his approach. "Tell you that we felt whatever happened between you and the demon."

Emma bowed her head, the way he said it made her sound dirty, more accusatory than Mary Margaret's tone. "Nothing happened, David, you must believe me."

"You don't deserve trust anymore, Emma," he spat, taking another step towards her. She fell to her knees at his closeness, his power washing over her in chilling waves. "You lost that right when you made that deal with him."

"So what do I deserve, then?" yelled, feeling heat rise into her chest. "Do I deserve this?" she finished, holding up her wounded hands for him to see. He lowered his gaze at the sight of her broken flesh, but didn't appear surprised. "Why didn't you help me?"

"You know I couldn't intervene," he responded, looking her directly in the eyes. "Helping you is forbidden, even talking with you now is against the rules, and you know that."

"Were you scared to get a slap on the wrist from daddy for helping me?" she sneered mockingly, wrapping her arms around her body, anger and pain fueling her words. "So why are you here, now?"

"To see you," he confessed, taking a deep breath and releasing it with force. "To see how you've been working your way back home."

"So you're here to track my progress?" she questioned, sarcasm and anger laced in her voice. His oppressive presence wasn't what she expected, she had expected to feel warmth and love, but all she felt was disappointment and disgust.

At her words David moved closer, each heavy step shook beneath her feet, causing her to fall, kneeling before him. "I'm here to remind you what you're supposed to be working towards," he said, softer than he had been. He reached down and tilted her chin with his finger, making her look up at him. "To remind you to do His holy work, earn your way back home, to Him, to us," he urged, rubbing his thumb along her cheek lovingly.

"I don't know how," she whimpered, feeling tears stream down her face. She felt horrible for the anger she had given him, her status causing her to feel hate more frequently. She lifted her hand and placed it over his, pressing her face into his palm. "I feel so lost."

"You've fallen far from grace, dear Emma," he muttered, looking down at her with a pained expression, golden armor gleaming with every deep breath he took. "But you are not completely lost." He helped pull her to her feet, bringing her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her body, placing a hand protectively on the back of her head.

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest, enjoying the way the cool gold felt under her cheek. He hugged her closer, his face buried in her hair. He noticed a strange smell as he took a breath, an ashy sent that was coated with soot and smoke.

He recognized the scent. It smelled like Hell, smelled that the evil that spawned there, smelled like a particular demon he has fought more than once through the centuries. Shock and disgust filled his mind as he realized her attire belonged to a man, technically, the demon she made the deal with. He released her slowly, pushing her away as he retreated towards the middle of the room.

"You've fallen farther than I thought," he stated, unable to wipe the shock that was spread across his face. Emma looked at him questioningly before looking down at her clothes, the clothes that belonged to Killian. She had forgotten upon David's arrival, a very stupid mistake on her part.

"David, I can explain," she pleaded, holding out her hand to him, walking forward cautiously.

"You think you can justify why you reek of that demon?" he yelled, tilting his head to the side, looking at her as if she were a disease-riddled rat. "You think that any explanation is going to be okay as to why you were that close to him without trying to kill him?"

"He saved me," she said flatly, looking at the archangel with pain in her eyes. She wanted him to listen, to try to hear her side of the story, to help him understand what had happened.

"He damned you!" he shouted, hands turning into fists by his hips. Emma flinched, turning her face away from him. "Everything he's done hasn't been for you, it's been for himself, and for his master!" He was physically shaking with anger, his eyes piercing into her heart.

"He may be the reason I'm here, but he's the _only_ one who's helped me since I arrived here!" she cried, trying to stand but failing.

"Did your fall knock you daft?" he questioned, leaning forward slightly, the golden glow around him only becoming brighter. "He's a manipulator, a deceiver, a _seducer_ ," he started, emphasizing his last word. "He's playing you, Emma. Don't be a fool."

"I know what I'm doing, David. No one is manipulating me."

"I hope you're right, Emma," he said, a circular light appearing around his body, much like the one he appeared in. "I know that the Fallen are tarnished with a darker side, but I pray you get back on the righteous path." With that he was gone just as quickly as his arrival, leaving Emma on her knees next to the stains caused by her blood. While his visit reminded her of the family she was missing, it also angered her beyond her belief. She wasn't sure what part of his speech had been worse, the demeaning tone and accusatory words or the fact that he had insulted Killian and his assistance. It should trouble her, the idea that insulting the demon would be upsetting, but it doesn't. David's harsh words against him do nothing but make her angry at the man she once called a brother.

There was a defiance that she had never experienced before. She wanted nothing more than to go against everything that the archangel had said, wanted to give up on ever going back to Heaven and work her way into the desirable loins of Hell. She shook her head, clenching her eyes shut. Her new darkness as a Fallen had started to put thoughts in her head about giving, but she knew what it was. She still had the power to fight it, but she had the freedom to explore the black depths of her broken soul, to take a small bite out of the other side. She was resentful of David and Mary Margaret, believing in their benevolent Father, but Emma had been dealt the dulled blade of that benevolence. She felt like she had suffered far more than her wrongful decision should have made her, she had suffered a great deal more than she felt fair. And for what? To be told she wasn't even on the right path back to the Heaven above? No, if she didn't appear to be on the right path, she might as well experience the wrong path a little.

Hurt and abandonment flooded her mind as rage and disdain seeped into her heart, blackening its edges, influencing her insubordination against David's words. A buzzing from behind interrupted her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. She turned and searched for the phone she had been given this morning, remembering where she had placed it under the window. Picking up the phone, she touched the button on the bottom of the screen, bringing Killian's name to light on the screen.

" _ **Hello, Angel. I take it you made it back to your room safely?"**_

Emma smiled at his words, quickly wiping the smile from her lips, trying to keep herself from being sucked in. _**"It's not that long of a walk, I can manage for a few minutes."**_

" _ **I have no doubt, love. Can't blame me for worrying, in light of recent events."**_

She could almost see his face, could almost see how he would have a smile on his lips that would reach his eyes, how those eyes would be filled with genuine concern. David was wrong. He cared for her, it shouldn't matter, but it does. _**"I guess I can let it slide this time,"**_ she joked easily. Talking to him through a proxy was less complex than doing it in person. She didn't have to watch the way his deep blue eyes stared at her, eyeing her from head to toe, or how the black clothes he always wore hugged his taught body deliciously. She felt things for him, physically, that she had never experienced before, tightness in her lower abdomen, heat collecting between her thighs, and it was all too much.

" _ **Much obliged, milady."**_ He responded quickly, almost impossibly fast. Before she could respond she received another message from him. _**"Alas, my contacting you is not without purpose."**_

Emma sighed. She didn't know why she felt a sudden pang of disappointment at his message, but maybe she had wanted him to just want to talk. He was, after all, the only being she could talk to about her situation. _**"You don't do anything without purpose, demon."**_ Her message comes out harsher than she intended, but she knows he won't read too much into it.

" _ **I was wondering if you would like to come by my bar later tonight, for drinks and stimulating discussion."**_ She knew he had flourished his hands dramatically while typing his message. A quirk she was growing fond of, one that always seemed to lighten the intensity of conversation.

" _ **Tempting offer, but I can't."**_ she replied, walking towards the chair to sit down. She still felt David's intimidating presence in the air, and it was weakening. _**"I told Ruby I couldn't come to work because I was sick."**_ She typed the last message without waiting for his question, knowing he would ask her anyways.

She waited a couple of minutes for his response, it being obvious he was trying to find the words to say. _**"I see. Perhaps I could join you in your quarters instead?"**_ She smiled down at the phone. She wanted more time with him, even if it was for conversation and company. The device vibrated in her hands again, leaving a dull ache in her palm. _**"I would still bring libations and witty conversation, of course ;)"**_ Did the Devil's second-hand send her a smiley face? Yes, yes he did.

She giggled to herself, a little flattered that he wanted more time with her as well. She hadn't promised him anything, hadn't said she would give into him. She wasn't as easily taken as a mortal, so he could easily shift his interests to the poor souls of the town. However, he seemed taken by her, and didn't try to force her hand in anything. _**"I have no opposition to that."**_

" _ **Excellent. What time would best suit you, love?"**_

Emma quickly checked the time on her phone, it was almost one in the afternoon. She needed some time to think, to mull over David's words, to decide what she wanted to do. There was a choice for her to take, a choice on whether she would keep her distance from him, merely enjoying a friendly chat once in a while, or she could explore, open up to the dark a little, and see how that side is. _**"How does nightfall sound?"**_

" _ **I'll be there."**_ He responded quickly. Those three words held so much weight to her, and she wasn't sure why. It wasn't a promise, it didn't have a second meaning, but she knew there was something deep behind it that couldn't be explained. She didn't reply, smiling to herself as she leaned back in the chair, her knees huddled to her chest. The phone slid down by her side, somewhere in the seat of the chair, but she didn't try to find it. She simply closed her eyes, breathing deeply and calmly. With everything that had happened, including David's appearance, she hadn't had time to stop her mind from thinking about all of it at once. She was mentally exhausted, even with the amount of sleep she had had. She needed more information about Reina and what had happened to her after that night those many years ago. She wanted to head Mary Margaret and David's warnings, she wanted to remain true and holy, but she also had this pull that tugged at her soul. She wanted so much more than to stay on a righteous path, she wanted more than a restricted life that seemed to outcast her at the slightest bit of wrong.

The attraction to Killian troubled her deeply. The most troubling aspect being that she wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to make the hollowness inside of her burn with a fire kindled by desire and lust. She wanted him to take her away from the judgment and disgrace she felt, away from a God that refused to save her. She wanted to remain with her friend, Ruby, a woman that found her in a horrible state and cared for her. She never asked questions, never pushed Emma to talk, she simply made her aware that she was there, and would be willing to help with anything. Mary Margaret had been a friend, a sister, like that, but now, since she Fell, it seemed that friendship was based off of holy commonness and not for who they were. It seemed that every relationship she had before her Fall had been surrounded by the idea that they would exist only with the expectation of goodness. Was any of it truly real?

As her mind continued to work she felt herself slip from consciousness, the faint scent of smoke and spice surrounding her by the clothes she wore. It helped ease her into a restful state, a state that allowed her mind to quiet and disregard all thoughts that didn't revolve around her dark hero, the demon that touched her gently, the evil force that calmed her senses when nothing else would.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Emma woke up to a barely lit room. Through the crack in the curtains she could see that the sky had turned into a deep blue. She scrambled in her seat to find the phone, where she saw that it was six in the evening. She had managed to sleep, curled in the chair, for five hours. She abruptly lifted herself from the chair, stretching her sore body, getting all of the kinks out. She looked over at her mess of a bed, sighing loudly that she had forgotten about changing the sheets. Killian would be over sometime soon, whenever the sun set and the sky became as black as the whole from which his heart should be.

She grabbed the ruined sheets off of the bed, tossing them into the small closet to be dealt with at a later time. She looked around the room, making sure the small space was accommodating for a guest. He didn't seem to mind the state of someone else's place, just his own, but she wanted to seem put together, and not the disarray of a being she was. Why she was trying to impress him, she didn't know, but she didn't want to seem any more pathetic than she had been earlier.

After straitening things up she decides to change out of his clothes. It was already embarrassing how much time she had spent in them anyways, having not changed when she returned to her room, wanting to keep his unique scent close her to senses. She looked through the small amount of clothing she had, opting for a pair of jeans that hugged in all the right places and a cream-colored sweater that exposed just the right amount of cleavage. Her crucifix was covered by the sweater, but the golden chain contrasted with her pale skin. She kept it on as a reminder for herself, and for Killian. No matter how close they got, she wanted him to remember where she came from, the polar opposite of his origin. She combed her fingers through her hair as she walked towards the small bathroom. Flipping on the light, she decided to apply the small amount of makeup that Ruby had insisted she buy, you know, for _special occasions_. She lined her top lids, letting the lines flick out at the ends, and applied a coat of mascara. That was all she opted to do, the black making the green of her eyes pop brightly. She was pleased with her appearance. The faint lines from where the barbed wire had pierced her skin around her forehead and body were barely visible. Emma assumed she still saw them only because she knew they were there. The small burn from the cross on her forehead was a little more noticeable, but she knew she could pass the mark for an old scar or birthmark. The top of the inverted cross was the most visible reminder of that night. The brand appeared slightly more pink and shiny than her natural skin tone, and it stuck out of the sweater she was wearing, resting between her breasts. The arms of the cross were burned across the tops of her breasts, the bottom tip rested in the center, right below her breasts. A small part of her wondered if Killian might like seeing those marks on her.

At seven pm the autumn sky was completely black, and she knew Killian would arrive soon, he was always very punctual. Emma felt nervousness creep over her. She had had conversations with Killian before, in her room even, but things felt different. The shared moment in his bathroom had changed things, not unpleasantly, but there was no longer and air of hostility between them, is was more an intense passion that came off heated. The sound of a strong knock on the door alerted her to an arrival. She knew it was him, the strong, but tender touch he always had with her was delivered through the knock.

She opened the door with purpose, a simple smile crossed her lips at his presence. He stood in the hallway, looking all the sin and depravity he fed on and dealt out. The black jeans were tight in all of the right places, a black t-shirt with a V to expose a teasing amount of dark hair, clung to his body and formed to every curve and angle. She had to force her eyes away from the point where his shirt met his jeans, planting them on his too-blue eyes as best she could.

"Hello, Emma," he greeted, her name undulating off his wicked tongue deliciously. She swallowed hard before opened the door wider to allow him through. He grinned at her before stepping through, making sure to have his chest brush her shoulder.

"Killian," she responded, smiling as he walked by. She could feel the heat coming from his skin, as she always could when they were close. The resonating power from his presence was becoming learned, the humming from the crucifix between her breasts no longer alarmed her when he was around. She closed the door before turning around, trying to gather her thoughts about everything she needed to talk to him about.

He was carrying a bottle in one hand, and a cord in the other. She looked at him and then pointed at his hand with the cord. He looked down and seemed to remember what the object was. "Ah yes," he started, holding out the corn in his hand. "I forgot to give you the charger for the phone this morning."

"Oh, yeah," Emma said, realizing she had forgotten about it, as well. She stepped forward to grab it from his hands, her fingertips brushing against his palm in the process. She tried to hide the small jump she made at the contact, but the smirk tugging at one corner on his mouth provided evidence he had noticed the movement. She looked around her room for somewhere to put the charger, opting to place it on the small table by the bed to plug in later.

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments, Emma looking around the room nervously and Killian staring at her, a smile on his lips. "As promised, I come with drink," he announced, holding out dark bottle of red wine. She was thankful he broke the silence, taking the bottle in her hands, grinning before giving him a horrified look.

"I don't have a bottle opener," she blurted, her eyes wide while he seemed amused.

"I figured as such, so I came prepared," he said, pulling an opener from one of his pant pockets. She sighed with relief before handing the bottle back over. She watched him make quick of the tin covering the cork, his deft fingers moving gracefully as he screwed the metal in. He shifted the container in his hand so he could pull the cork out, the loud pop startling her, which seemed to humor him.

"I have one glass," she started, walking towards her bathroom to grab the one cup the room came with.

"I have my shots," he said with a chuckle, holding the bottle out towards her. She turned back towards him, grabbing the bottle from his hand and holding it up to her lips. She allowed the dark fluid to fill her mouth, pulling the bottle away before swallowing. It was dry and thick, leaving a warm trail down her throat. She moaned at how the wine had coated her mouth, leaving behind a rich taste. "Good?" he asked, enthralled with her reaction.

"Very," she replied, handing the wine back to him. He nodded in the gentle way he always did before placing the opening of the bottle to his lips. Holding her gaze, he took a long drink, lowering the bottle while he swallowed. She couldn't help but stare as he licked his lips, cleaning a small amount of wine left behind.

"You're right," he agreed, his gaze still holding hers. "It is good." Emma eyed her room, looking for a place for them to sit. The bed was bare, with small blood stains that had leaked through the sheets, and the one arm chair wouldn't hold them both (not unless in very close proximity). Killian could see the gears turning in her head, so he turned and motioned for the bed. "We could sit here."

"Sure," she agreed, walking quickly over to stand next to him. They both sat on the bed at the same time, facing the front door. She kept her eyes glued to the door, keeping a good two feet between them. Killian looked at her, watched her as she purposefully forced her eyes to stay in a different direction.

"It started here?" he asked, noticing the small blood stains on the naked mattress. She turned her head to face him, eyes darkening as she remembered that night. She nodded, taking the bottle from his hand and swallowing down a large gulp. Even though alcohol didn't affect her or Killian the way it affected the mortals, it still made them feel nice and numb. "I should have told you about what had happened to Regina the first moment I had a chance."

"Yes, you should have," she agreed, taking a small sip before handing the bottle back to him. "I cared about her."

"I know it was hard to let me take her," he stated, his voice softer than it usually was. She risked a slight glance in his direction, his face appearing a little guilty. "I assume the other girl turned out well."

"Elsa," Emma reminded, running a hand through her hair. "Yes, she got married, had a couple of children, and died old and happy. Everything someone like me could want for her." She shrugged her shoulders and looked at him, shaking her head slightly.

"From what I've briefly said, Regina is still alive," Killian stated, meeting her gaze with seriousness. "Well, she still _exists_ , she just doesn't have a heart." He took a sip from the wine, rubbing his hand across his lips to clean them off.

"Oh, that sounds pleasant," Emma replied sarcastically. She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead, trying to tame the sickening guilt she felt for trading her.

"Believe me, Emma, she seems to have found her niche," he proclaimed, handing her the bottle. She looked at him in disbelief. The direction this conversation was going seemed to be the opposite of what Emma needed. "Hey, all I'm saying is that she isn't just some suffering soul, she's the bloody Queen of Hell."

"That supposed to make me feel better about the whole situation?" she asked, gulping two large mouthfuls, licking her lips collect the small amount that had leaked out.

"I guess not," he started, swirling the liquid in its container once he had taken it from her hand. She could tell he had been trying to help, but nothing would make her feel any better about the decision she made, not even knowing it was Regina that had ordered that imp to kill her.

"David visited me today," she blurted, trying to change the conversation to something less disappointing. She could see the surprise on Killian's face before he chuckled lightly, sipping their shared drink.

"Ah, how is he? Still large and valiant as ever?" She knew that he and David had fought a couple of times throughout the years, neither managing to kill the other before returning to their homes.

"Of course," Emma assured, a pained expression on her face. "He came to talk to me, he came right after I got back from your place."

"I see," he said, realization donning his features. "I'm guessing he wasn't thrilled with you," he added, trying to appear sympathetic, but unable to hide the small up-turn at the corners of his lips.

"That's putting it lightly," Emma expressed, taking the bottle and sipping. The large bottle was already halfway gone, but she hadn't had nearly enough to dull the sensations of abandonment and desire that swam within her. While recalling his hurtful words, she couldn't help the tears that started to flood her eyes, somehow keeping them from falling.

"What happened?" he asked carefully, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. He could see the pain on her face, knowing that the archangel's visit hadn't been pleasant.

"Nothing really," she explained, closing her eyes and sighing. "He mostly just informed me of my blatant disregard to working my way back to Heaven."

"It's not like you've had much time," he insisted, shrugging his shoulders. She agreed with him, she hadn't had a lot of time in this town to be able to scope out the priorities, the people that needed the most help. However, it's not like she had even tried to.

"That's not even what really bothered me," she added, she chewed on her bottom lip. Killian was looking at her, waiting for her to continue. He was interested in the conversation she had with David, and she wasn't sure why. "He could smell you on me, it didn't help I was still in your clothes."

He laughed at that. She wasn't sure if he was laughing at the horrible timing of the situation, or at how a Fallen had been in the clothes of a demon. "That's unfortunate," he said, once he had calmed down and returned to his serious self. "David finding you in my clothes isn't what bothered you, was it?" His eyes seared into hers, trying to dig into her soul to find the answer.

"No," she whispered, handing him the bottle. "He's disgusted with me, becoming disgraced was not what anyone had imagined for me. He thinks I'm being manipulated away from the _righteous path_."

"Let me guess, I'm the manipulator?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and taking a swig from the bottle dramatically.

Emma nodded, knowing he already knew how David felt. "He told me I was tarnished," she muttered, the hurt she had felt earlier was returning. She still wasn't entirely sure what he had meant by that, but it had felt like a knife in her heart when he had said it. "Tarnished with darkness, to be precise." She could see Killian close his eyes at her words, almost as if he knew what that meant. "Do you know what that means?"

"Aye," he replied, sighing deeply before opening his eyes. "The Fallen, their history is deeply rooted within my breed than with yours."

"Lucifer was a Fallen, the first," she said, reciting what she had been told upon receiving her duties as an Innocent.

"He has dominion over all the creatures in Hell, a Fallen Angel holds the root of all evil, a Satanic source that could doom every creature existing." She listened to him, his entrancing voice almost making it sound like a dramatic story rather than the truth. "He's told me that's what makes Hell dangerous. It was created from the wrath of an Angel, once pure and holy, that had been damned, abandoned, thrown out for not obeying blindly. A power like that is deadly, for it is one that decided to make its own decision, took the insight from purity and relinquished it to a monster that had been born within his soul." Killian looked at Emma, hoping she wasn't afraid. Her green eyes were wide, but she seemed more overwhelmed than anything, and that was to be expected. "What David meant by being tarnished with darkness is that you are now open to evil. The darkness within your soul to sin and do whatever you like, feel whatever you like, has been awoken, and it can keep you from obtaining Clemency and returning home."

Emma's mouth fell open, completely taken aback by what Killian had said. He seemed to notice her discomfort, offering her the wine. She took it gladly, taking a long pull while holding eye contact. "So my soul is a little dark now," she whispered, more a statement than a question. "That explains a few things."

"Like our connection?" he asked softly, not wanting that to be true. She could see he seemed hurt, but she knew their connection had nothing to do with her status, she had felt it while she was still a holy angel, anyways.

"Not at all," she assured, placing her hand over his forearm. His skin was hot under her cool hand, and it seemed to warm the chill she had after his speech. "Defiance. I felt defiant for the first time while David was telling me what I should be doing. I hated him for looking at me like I was scum, like I was no longer as _holy_ as he was."

"What else?" he asked, his eyes darkening. He enjoyed hearing her speak ill of everything he hated, seeing the same disdain start to appear in her eyes.

"It's almost as if a mask had been taken off for the first time," she began, licking her lips anxiously. "Everything he was saying sounded so ridiculous, like what you had said to me about our deal? How ludicrous it sounded that I should be punished for making sure at least one girl was saved, while if I had fought you and died, both girls being taken, that would have been righteous. I mean, one girl was a success, if I hadn't made that deal, I would have failed both of them."

While the demonic part of him loved hearing her question her faith, there was a part that almost felt wrong for wanting it. He enjoyed their differences, was beginning to admire their similarities, but he wasn't sure if he wanted her to completely tear herself from her origins. He didn't know if part of their attraction was the forbidden nature of their closeness. "Are you losing faith?"

"No, I still have faith in the goodness of it all," she said, her eyes glazing over, her mind becoming distant. "I'm just seeing things from another perspective, and it's all different from this side."

"You've never been told any of that?" Killian couldn't believe that an all-knowing, all-powerful god would send his children out to fight for the goodness of mortals without being told about the evil that awaited. They didn't know all that was at stake for the Fallen, they just knew to avoid becoming one at all cost. Blissfully ignorant, blindly obeying Angels at His mercy.

"I'm an Innocent, we are the least likely to Fall," she replied in a whisper, hanging her head low. "At least, I was an Innocent until I Fell."

"You're an Untouched?" he questioned, he seemed surprised, in awe, and concerned.

"Is that what you call us?" she asked with a laugh, smiling at him lightly. "But, yes, that's why the imp tried to rape me with that molten rod, to take away my innocence."

"I didn't know that about you," he muttered, looking at her in a whole new light. His attraction to her felt stronger, an almost insatiable need to be with her, to take that piece of her away and keep it as his.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," she joked, nudging his shoulder with her own. "There's a lot I don't know about myself, anymore."

He watched her expression turn from content to stoic in a matter of seconds, the realization of a separate part of her emerging seemed to rock her. "How do you intend to find out?"

"Actually," she started, looking at him desperately. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her while she was giving him that look. "I want to ask you to help me."

"How could I possibly provide the answers you seek? I know very little of your world, and what I do know, you already know about it."

"I'm not wanting to know about my world," she responded, scooting closer to him on the bed, leaving a foot of space between them. He was holding his breath, unsure of what she was doing. "I'm wanting to explore this darker side of me, see if the forbidden fruit is as sinful as foretold."

He exhaled loudly, her words forcing blood form his brain to another part of him, one that he needed to control. "And what is my role? Being your guide?" he whispered, feeling his eyes begin to boil, the feeling right before they erupted in flames.

"Exactly."

He was about to reply when a sharp knock on the door completely cut through the connected tension in the room. Emma looked surprised, facing the door before looking at Killian. She stood up and carefully walked to the door, graceful and elegant. She opened the door slowly, at a loss for who could be at her door.

"Hey, Emma, I brought you some soup," Ruby exclaimed, holding a large to-go cup in one hand, the other was pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Ruby's face fell to a question when she took in Emma's attire. "A little dressed up to be sick, aren't you?"

The blonde stared at her friend, eyes wide, trying to think of an excuse. She had nothing to say, no way of explaining why she wasn't in sweats and sleeping, why she smelled like wine and _him_. Ruby looked over Emma's shoulder through the door, finding Killian sitting on the bed, a bottle in hand. He gave the brunet a nod before turning his gaze towards Emma. Ruby's eyes fell back on the blonde, mouth parted in surprise. Emma pulled the sleeves of her sweater down to her knuckles, hiding the wounds that were still visible. She motioned for Ruby to back up, closing the door behind her to have some privacy.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just…" Emma started, crossing her arms over her chest. She felt horrible for not being able to tell her friend the truth, but how could she explain the holes in her hands?

"Emma, you never have to apologize for wanting to spend time with a hot guy," Ruby assured her, placing her hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Just tell me next time, I won't interrupt by bring you soup," she explained with a large smile. Emma was grateful to have a friend like her, who didn't pry and didn't judge.

"You're not mad I lied?"

"How could I? Do you know how many times I've said I was sick just so I could do something else?" Ruby asked, reassuring the blonde that she wasn't angry. "Everyone has done it, don't worry about it."

Emma smiled, still a little ashamed at herself. She hoped Ruby wouldn't be angry that she was with Killian, knowing their _casual_ history, but Ruby seemed happy with Victor. "Okay, thank you for understanding, and for the soup."

"Of course," she replied, handing the cup over to Emma. "Text or call me tomorrow, I need details," she finished, starting to walk back down the stairs to the dinner. She gave Emma a wink before disappearing, chuckling quietly.

Emma took a deep breath before walking back to her room, knocking on the door for Killian to let her back in. It took less than a second for the door to open, a smug grin on his handsome face. "I take it she wasn't upset?"

"No, but you already knew that," she replied, walking past him into the room.

"Can't blame me for being curious, love," he expressed, shrugging his shoulders. Emma only smiled before sitting back down on the bed, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. Killian sauntered (yes, _sauntered_ ) over to where she sat, kneeling down on the floor in front of her. "Are you sure about this, Emma?"

Even with the break in conversation, she knew exactly what he was asking her about. She had asked him to, essentially, help her explore the darker side of her, the side that emerged when she became one of The Fallen. It wasn't that she didn't believe in God's purpose, but she felt a disdain towards Him and all the other Angels for treating her like an outcast, even if she deserved it, according to His judgment. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Can I ask why?" His features darkened, he seemed to be inching closer to her, his arm resting on the bed next to her thigh.

She swallowed thickly, feeling the heat from his skin wash over her slowly, embracing her in welcomed warmth. "Since I Fell, I've felt a sort of dread that I never could have imagined before, a sinister desire that I've never felt, and there's been only one thing that has helped it," she muttered, looking into his eyes with strong intent. "Being around you has alleviated those feelings, while being around my kind, and even in the church, has felt oppressive and condemnatory."

Killian just stared at her as she spoke. He could see the internal conflict going on within her, he could see she wanted to hold onto whatever holiness was left inside, but the darkness was leaking through the cracks of her belief, and it was strong. "So what are you wanting me to help you with?" He couldn't help but feel the anticipation, couldn't help but feel as if she was hinting at something.

She leaned forward, getting closer to him on her own terms. She took the bottle that was dangling from his fingers, examining the small amount left, swirling the liquid around. "Show me what it's like on your side, show me what I can feel and experience under your _guidance_." Her green eyes shone with a fierceness he had never seen, and he loved it.

He felt the corners of his mouth lift in an unconscious smile. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he said slowly, each syllable rolling off his tongue in a seductive tone. He tapped the bottle in her hands, helping her lift it to her lips.

She took a long sip, draining the bottle before slowly pulling it away from her mouth. She enjoyed the deep, rich taste the last sip always had. She watched as his face hardened, his eyes becoming dark and dangerous. He leaned forward, still kneeling in front of her, both arms surrounding her thighs. He lifted a hand, cupping her chin between his thumb and forefinger as she sat motionless on the bed. She could hear the sounds of her shaking breath as he bent he leaned forward, their eyes locking in an intense stare. His lips were inches away from her own, his body pulling her into him as his tongue snaked out of the hot confine of his mouth and licked a drop of wine that had been clinging to her bottom lip. A short gasp escaped her parted mouth, his breath warm against her lips, an invisible line of electricity forming between them.

"More?" he whispered the question, pressing his forehead to hers, licking his lips in anticipation of her answer. There were so many thoughts and feelings swimming inside her mind, she couldn't answer him. She nodded slowly, looking into his eyes with fear and longing, scared for how good she knew his lips would feel. She heard a barely audible low moan come from his chest as the blue in his eyes began to shift and wave, like heat bending light off of a fire.

It seemed like an eternity passed by, he was so close, and so far away, taking his time, moving his lips back to hers so slowly. When he finally allowed their lips to brush, he was so gentle, almost too gentle. This supreme creature of darkness barely applied pressure to her mouth, savoring the light touch as if it were his last meal. She could feel her lips trembling, desperately begging for him give her something, hoping to taste him. He applied more pressure, opening his mouth slightly to take her bottom lip between his. It was her turn to moan, a soft sound she never expected to be making with him. He moved his hand away from her chin, gently running his fingers through her hair to hold the back of her head, pulling his face away to look at her properly.

She could see the struggle he was having on his restraint, trying to control his baser instincts in order to relish the moment. "More," she pleaded, her voice barely loud enough to register. She pleaded with her eyes, looking into his ember-sparked ones with a hope for more. Emma placed her hand over his arm next to her thigh, feeling the burn radiate into her skin. Before she could beg anymore, his lips were on hers, with more force this time. She gripped at his arm as she felt his tongue run along the slit of her mouth, demanding entry. She opened her mouth, inexperience with this type of intimacy seemed irrelevant, almost as if her body knew exactly what to do for his. The taste of his wicked tongue was like nothing she could have imagined, all smoky and decadent, the type of flavor you should only indulge yourself in on special occasions. His tongue slid along hers in a dance that would make the professionals jealous, his lips were soft and warm, surrounded with a stinging scruff.

The hand on the back of her head guided her as their mouths tasted one another, the slight tug of her hair only urged her to continue. She never knew that a kiss could feel so good, having only been kissed by her family of Angels, and of course, her Heavenly Father. Kissing Killian was entirely different, she could feel desire swell within her, pooling in places she hadn't considered before now. He stood from his kneeling position abruptly, pulling her off of the bed and against his body, his free arm wrapping around her waist as she dropped the empty bottle to the ground.

"Can you feel that, Angel?" he whispered against her mouth, his lips trailing soft kisses along her jaw. The electrical buzzing between them was strong and consistent, a power that was combining her light and his dark energies into one.

"Yes," she replied softly, shuddering as his lips danced over to her ear. His smoldering embrace held her close to him, allowing her to feel the hardness of his body against the suppleness, but firmness, of hers.

"Do you feel what I can do to you? What you can do to me?" he asked, pressing their hips together. She felt a rigid edge rest against the side of her hip, evidence of his attraction towards her.

"Oh, yes," she groaned, his lips attaching to her neck, sending a shiver down her spine, causing her to press her hips against his erection, eliciting a growl from the demon.

His hands moved up to cup her face, slamming his lips into hers again, thrusting his tongue inside, tasting every inch of her mouth. Her hands rested against his chest, gripping at his shirt for stability. He pushed her face away, keeping his hands around her jawline, both breathing deeply. She searched his eyes for the reason he stopped, but she was met with the inferno that she always saw when he was at his most demonic. No longer deep blue irises, but rolling, raging fire that burned into her own green eyes, making her feel small and wanted. "I need to go."

"What? Why?" she questioned, her voice growing louder. She wondered what she could have done wrong, surely he had to know she had absolutely no experience in this area.

"If I don't, I won't stop," she explained, his face softening, but his eyes remained fiery and lethal. "I'm going to take this slow with you, Untouched one." He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw, clearly not wanting to stop.

She hadn't even considered what would have happened if they had continued, but she was grateful he had enough control to stop himself, because she could see his resolve could crumble at any second. "Okay," she muttered, peeling her hands away from his chest as he dropped his away from her face. He stepped back, putting distance between them before smiling at her, turning towards her door.

Emma went to follow him, but he held out his hand, his face appearing apologetic. "Stay there, Emma, I'm already struggling to not just take you," he confessed, opening the door slightly. "We'll talk tomorrow about this exploration of yours."

"Thank you, Killian," she said before he left, causing him to turn his head towards her. "For agreeing to help me."

"Trust me, Emma," he said lowly, the seduction rolling back into his voice. "It'll be good for us both," and with that he was gone, the door closing soundlessly behind him.

Emma stood in her room with kiss-swollen lips and wetness between her legs. She had just asked a demon for help in exploring the darkness within her, and then had been kissed by him, tenderly, yet passionately. She couldn't help but smile as she pressed her fingers to her lips, feeling the resonating warmth his own left behind. She could smell smoke faintly in the air, giggling at how she was able to make him that aroused. She didn't know what she would be doing or how she would be understanding the wickedness that was in her Fallen soul, but she knew it would be an adventure she would take with Killian gladly. Even with this new-found freedom she was experiencing, she felt the pangs of guilt settling in her stomach, but she ignored it. Those feelings hadn't helped her down here yet, so why should she listen?

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 _ **A/N: Are we excited? I know I am! So, the muse got carried away with this chapter, I had expected it to end way before it did, but the muse, just kept wanting more. The demanding bitch ;) Anyways, reviews and suggestions are always welcomed, so are any PMs you want to shoot my way. I hope you got to check out my recent one-shot I posted last week, "Of Shattered Sight and Body". Anyways, until next time, my dark ones. - Bailey**_


	10. Chapter 10 - Seven

**_A/N: I know... I know. I'm a horrible person for making you guys wait SO long. I apologize greatly! Things got in the way, and I'm not even going to make excuses. This chapter really was a huge block for me. It's a bit shorter than the others, but I really just wanted to get this published for you guys. I hope this makes up for the wait!_  
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 _476 A.D., During the Fall of the Roman Empire_

" _You Holy creatures are a relentless bunch," he exclaimed, a little winded, wiping the blood away from mouth with the back of his hand._

" _Unlike your infernal kind, we don't quit," the larger man said, hunched over, trying to catch his breath. He looked at his bruising and bloody knuckles, shaking his hand before standing straight again._

" _Now, David," Killian groaned, stretching his own bloody and beaten hands and rolling his shoulders. "Is now the time for insults?" He studied the bigger man, looking for any hint to what he was thinking. This wasn't his first brawl with the archangel, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Neither of them seemed to be able to kill the other. They were the perfect pair of fighters, giving both of their Leaders a show._

 _David stared at the demon, slightly smaller than he was, but no less dangerous. "Well it's definitely not a time for jests, demon." Neither of the men moved, both regaining their energy at a safe distance._

" _You're no fun," Killian whined, wincing at the pain in his side. He definitely had a broken rib or two, David was a great fighter. The Holy one stood three inches taller, covered in a shiny gold armor, and ethereal glow surrounding him as if a bright light was illuminated behind him at all times. Killian wore thick, black leather armor, molded to fit him perfectly. Without a glow, his energy was visible by his fire-engulfed eyes and flaming fists._

" _This isn't fun for me," David stated, readying himself for the next attack. "You're the only one that gets enjoyment from this."_

 _Killian laughed and gave David a sarcastic bow, mocking him. He stayed still as the angel ran towards him, all gleaming power and strength. There was a thunderous boom when David collided with Killian, rumbling the ground beneath them. Unless controlled, their skin would burn the flesh of their enemies, Killian could scorch skin, and David could melt it. The sounds and scent of burning flesh filled their ears and noses as they flew through the air before landing on the ground with an earth-shattering crunch. Killian grunted under the angel's weight, quickly pushing him off, rushing to stand._

" _Bloody hell, you weigh a ton," the demon groaned, watching his adversary slowly rise to his feet. They were panting, bloody, and bruised, but neither wanted to give up. They were equally matched, and it meant that sooner or later, one of them would have a stroke of luck and defeat the other, but that time hadn't come yet. Once on his feet, David began walking towards the other being. They kept a two-foot distance between them, trying to catch their breaths and taking fight stance._

 _They exchanged punches evenly, both making contact more than they missed. Killian's leaner frame gave him in advantage in speed, allowing him to take the angel down to the ground, where he excelled. David was better at brute force and beatings, and was easily out-maneuvered in the tightness of wrestling. His weight helped him, but the demon was spry, slipping out of any holds he tried to pull. Their bodies burned and bled as they continued to fight for dominance._

 _For every strong hold David had, Killian had an even better escape, turning the tables quickly, placing the larger being into submission holds, doing everything to defeat him. The archdemon made his way behind David, wrapping his legs around the angel's waist, and arm around the front of his neck, the other holding onto his own wrist to sink the chokehold in. He began stretching out, pulling David's head back with him. Killian chuckled as David struggled to get out of the hold, slowly losing energy with the lack of blood flow to his head. He could feel the life force of the angel begin to falter, growing weaker and weaker as his own energy increased. A loud and deep growl pounded through the air, causing the Earth to shake and crack open. Bright red fire peaked through the cracks, causing Killian to loosen his grip around David's neck enough to allow him to take a shaky breath._

" _Looks like our fight isn't over yet," Killian whispered into his ear, laughing as he released him, shoving him aside to stand. David's vision was coming back into focus, his lungs screaming and mind fuzzy from lack of air. He could sense the evilness in the air, seeping through the cracks in the Earth, calling the vile demon back home. Killian stood over the angel still gasping for air, face red in effort, smiling a wicked grin before falling through one of the cracks. The world became normal almost immediately, the stifling wickedness washed from the atmosphere, allowing David to breathe easily._

 _David prayed his thanks to his Heavenly Father for allowing him to be spared, to continue fighting for his beliefs. He was lucky, this time, but he knew his next encounter with the Devil's Secondhand wouldn't go the same way. He would destroy the demon, even if he had to die in the process._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Tell me _everything!_ " Ruby demanded, gripping Emma's wrist in the backroom of Granny's. It was lunchtime, and this was the first time both girls were free for a few minutes during their shifts

"What do you want to know?" Emma asked, trying to be quieter than her friend, who seemed to want the whole dinner to know about her night.

"What was Killian doing in your room?" the brunette asked, completely curious, a huge smile spread across her ruby lips. "I didn't even know you knew him that well."

Emma hesitated with her answer. As far as Ruby knew, she had only met Killian at his bar a couple of nights ago. "We talked a bit while you were dancing," Emma stated, trying to keep her voice even. "We've only spoken a few times since then, including last night."

Ruby started doing mini jumps next to her, barely containing her obvious excitement. "So, are you guys like a thing?" Her movements stilled, waiting for her answer.

"We're just talking," Emma insisted, smiling at Ruby's pouting lip at her response. "But there's something there," Emma added, admitting it to herself. Ruby quietly squealed, gathering Emma into a brief hug before pulling back and grabbing her shoulders.

"Just wait," she exclaimed, her face conveying nothing but seriousness. "He is _fantastic_ in bed!" Before Emma had the chance to appear shocked, Ruby was gone, walking down the hallway to take care of her waiting customers.

Emma couldn't help the small smile that was on her lips. This was the first time she had actually felt content, happy even, since she Fell in this dreary town. She had a great friend in Ruby, someone who was kind, and good, but just bad enough to give her balance. She had something with the demon, a something that she wanted to explore and understand more as her damnation was becoming more apparent, resentment boiling in her heart. She took a deep breath to calm herself down, pulling the sleeves of the shirt she wore under her uniform down to keep her hands covered. She had found a shirt with thumbholes on the long sleeves at the small discount store in town, and knew it would work perfectly until her wounds healed completely. She only had a couple of hours left in her shift, and she was excited for the workday to end.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She opened the door to her room hurriedly, wanting to change out of her food and coffee stained uniform into more comfortable clothes. She hadn't talked to Killian all day, but he had promised the night before that they would talk at some point, and she had been anticipating it while pouring coffee and placing plates of lasagna in front of townspeople. She was beginning to recognize the regulars, and they were doing the same with her. The old carpenter, Geppetto, was in every morning, and she had a handful of regulars at lunch.

She had felt his presence all day, a welcoming warm buzz in the morning that had slowly grown into a hot rolling against her skin, caressing her skin and making her feel tingly in all the right places. Ever since her epiphany after David's scorning the day before, she allowed herself to enjoy, and even crave, the sensations he put out, allowing herself to thrive off of the warmth and lust he radiated. No more than twenty-four hours after, basically, putting her holy journey back to Heaven on hold, she was totally embracing the idea of exploring the darker side she gained from her banishment. She wasn't naïve, she knew the main reason her choice was made so quickly was because of the demon more than willing to show her his ways.

While she knew she should be feeling something for deciding to go against her kind, she couldn't muster guilt for putting up a wall towards her supposed family. Her faith had always been strong, but she was beginning to feel places where the strength of it was beginning to grow weak in spots, allowing her to see a little more clearly outside of that mindset. She truly wanted this, truly wanted to experience all of the sins and pleasures that Killian could give to her, and she wanted to feel something other than the abandonment that crushed her heart, even if that meant inviting the welcoming darkness into her mind and soul.

She grabbed a pair of jeans and a lightweight crimson sweater, slipping into same shoes she worked in, since those were the only shoes she had. Looking at herself in the small bathroom mirror, she could tell her glowing skin had slightly dulled, but there was still a touch of glimmer. Just enough, she thought. The subtle, but distinct, knock on her door was not the only alert to who was behind it. The familiar buzz of a darker energy surrounded her like the warmth from a fire. The crucifix still resting between her breasts thrummed against her sternum, a sensation she grew to love.

Smoothing down her hair, she hurried to the door, almost embarrassingly giddy. She placed a small smile on her face before opening the door, her jaw almost falling to the floor at the sight before her. His black jeans hugged his legs perfectly, black leather boots complimenting the dark material. The black satin button-up shirt was snug across his entire torso, fitting perfectly over his shoulders, chest, and waist. There was a throb between her thighs when she noticed that he hadn't buttoned the top three buttons, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a charming grin spread over his perfect lips. She was fond of the way his jaw would twitch under his dark stubble

"Good evening, Emma," he greeted, bowing his head slightly. She still couldn't tell if he was being polite of facetious with the bow yet, but she didn't take it personally.

"Hello, Killian," she replied, holding his eyes with her own. He had kissed her last night, an act that she had completely allowed, and she could feel tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward, it was hunger. She opened the door wider, motioning him to come inside. He shook his head and smiled at her, holding out his arm for her to take.

"I'm here to escort you to my place," he said, pulling his shoulders back, playing the part of a charming prince elegantly. "I figured that would be a better place to have our talk."

"Why didn't you just have me meet you there?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I pride myself on being a gentleman, Angel," he explained, holding his proffered arm out higher, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. "Shall we?" She gave him a coy smile before wrapping her arm around his, closing and locking the door behind her.

The night air was frigid, but the demon was incredibly warm by her side. She hesitantly pressed herself against his side, smiling when he didn't seem to mind her closeness. It wasn't a long walk to his apartment from Granny's, but it was long enough to warrant conversation.

"So, what does our mutual friend think about our friendliness?" he asked, looking down at her with a smug grin, humor twinkling in his eyes.

She smiled shyly, averting her gaze to the ground. "Ruby thinks it's great," she stated, feeling his gaze bore into her. "She also said you were great in bed."

Killian raised an eyebrow, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth. "Did she, now?" he asked, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. Emma could feel her cheeks turning pink, but tried to hide the bashfulness from him. They walked the rest of the way in a peaceful silence, simply enjoying each other's company.

Emma sighed in relief when she felt his apartment was warm, knowing he must have done that for her. He didn't require auxiliary heat, being his own furnace and everything. It was a kind gesture, surely one too nice for an ordinary demon, but he was not that. Killian, the evil, but fair being he was, had a different side to him that Emma was lucky enough to see. That side was probably well hidden when he was home, in the fiery pits of Hell.

"It feels nice in here," she said, breaking the silence between them.

She felt him walk past her into the kitchen, pulling two tumblers and a dark bottle from a cabinet. "Rum?"

Emma sighed, stretching her arms out to the side. "Why not." She watched him smirk while pouring generous amounts of the brown liquid into each glass. He deftly carried each drink in one hand, the other holding the bottle. He stood directly in front of her, holding the glasses for her to take one. She accepted it with both hands, holding the drink at chest-level.

"To new adventures," he stated plainly, holding his glass up in front of her.

Emma pulled her drink up, tapping it against his glass, enjoying the clink. "To new adventures," she repeated, taking a long sip at the same time he did. Her eyes squinted shut as the alcohol burned her throat, Killian chuckled lightly before leading her towards his couch.

"I must say, rum is not as good as it used to be back in my pirating days." He sat down on the end, giving her plenty of room to decide how close she wanted to sit next to him. She could see that he looked almost hopeful, his face growing relaxed as she sat by him closely, knees touching, hips farther apart.

"Of course you were a pirate," Emma laughed, taking another sip of rum. "Pillaging and plundering, what could possibly be more fun for your kind than that?" He knew she was joking with him by the smile on her face. He wasn't sure if she fully accepted him for what he was, or if she still had harsh feelings towards his nature.

"Very true," he agreed, leaning back and eyeing her slowly. He loved the way the sweater hugged her curves, the scoop neck giving a modest amount of cleavage for his eyes to take in. "I'm sure you were being helpful and holy, and all of that," he added, flourishing his hands to emphasize the _holiness._

"Something like that," she agreed, smiling and turning a little to face him better. He silently leaned forward, opening the bottle of rum and pouring them another large glass.

He bit his index finger between his teeth as he watched her sip the drink gingerly. "I'm all for light conversation, but I feel that we should discuss what we talked about last night."

She had been too nervous to bring it up, secretly hoping that he would be the one to break the ice. "Good idea," she agreed, taking another sip of rum. "Before we have too many of these."

Killian raised an eyebrow and chuckled, polishing of the second glass in one gulp. He poured another, hell, he could hardly drink enough to get drunk anyways, and he mostly enjoyed the spice and flavor. "Did you have any ideas, Angel?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, swirling the rum around. She could hardly look him in the eye, suddenly feeling shy about the whole thing.

"I mean," he started, bending his head to get her attention. She brought her gaze up to meet his, understanding expressed on his handsome face. "Did you have any plans, or do you want just want to hear my suggestion?"

She sat there, her lips parted, trying to mask the sudden horror she felt. She didn't have an idea of what she should do to explore her darkening soul. She didn't know how to even begin to sin nonchalantly, to do vile things her kind would shudder at the thought of. She hadn't given it much thought, no more than her realization that she wanted to explore it. "What did you have in mind?"

Her words came out quietly, almost as if she was afraid. He knew it wouldn't be easy for her, no matter how angry at her kind she had seemed last night. He knew that this would be difficult, but he was willing to show her, if she wanted him to. "I thought we could start slow. Allow you to test the waters." He moved closer to her, slowly, his blue eyes darkening. She didn't move away from him, allowing him to press their thighs together, his arm wrapping round the top of the couch, fingers toying with her hair that dangled over the edge. "Give you a taste before the feast." The analogies rolled off his tongue seductively. She couldn't help but wiggle her hips slightly on the couch, to try and ease the ache inside of her delicate flesh. He noticed her movements, noticed the need in her eyes, a need for something she didn't even know about. It was a turn-on to know he could make someone so pure squirm with want, to make a divine being like her want his body.

"A taste?" she asked in a whisper, her voice failing to remain calm. She wasn't sure if she really was falling apart for him, or if he was producing this feeling with his powers of seduction.

"A small taste," he murmured, leaning forward until she was under his arm, his other hand moving to cup her face. His touch was hot, bordering burning, but she relished it. He kept distance between their faces, but pressed his body into hers, loving the way she tensed and relaxed next to him. "We'll work up to larger bites," he continued, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He tilted his head, taking his gaze back and forth between her eyes and lips. "I won't let you bite off more than you can chew."

His way of explaining did things to her she should have been embarrassed about, but she wasn't. She couldn't feel guilty about the things he did to her. "Portion control?" she asked, giving him a sly smile, hoping he appreciated her addition to his way with words.

"Precisely, love," he replied in a whisper, inching his face forward and then bringing his glass to his lips. He held it there for a few seconds, waiting for Emma to mirror his actions. They downed their drinks together, his third and her second, before placing the glasses on the coffee table.

She maneuvered her legs underneath her so that her knees and shins were resting in his lap. He licked his lips at her contact, smirking before placing a large hand on her knee, squeezing lightly. "Where do we begin?" she questioned, glancing at his hand on her leg, watching the way his fingers flexed over her knee, almost as if he wanted to run it up her leg.

A wicked expression spread across his face, blue eyes darkening, lips parting, and tongue teasing one corner of his mouth. He swallowed before leaning forward to hover his lips over her neck. "Ever hear of the Seven Deadly Sins, Angel?" he asked, hot breath dancing over the delicate skin of her neck. He could see the chills running over her body, felt her legs shudder in his lap.

Emma couldn't help the small noise that escaped her as his lips barely brushed against her pulse, feeling him smile against the skin there at her physical reaction to him. "Of course," she muttered, scooting closer to him on the couch. She placed her hand on the shoulder of the arm that was resting on her knee, feeling the heat and hardness of him through his shirt.

"Recite them for me," he demanded softly, this time applying enough pressure to her neck for her to know it wasn't by accident. She bit her lip, gripping his shoulder tighter, feeling as if she might implode next to him as a hand found its way into her hair.

"Vanity," she started, eyes squinting shut as he placed a chaste kiss on her jawline. "Envy," she almost moaned, his lips gliding along her ear.

"Keep going," he insisted, pulling on her hair slightly. He loved her like this, willing and wanting, not holding back, not afraid of what might happen.

"Gluttony," she continued, her hand sliding from his shoulder onto his chest, gripping at his shirt, trying to pull him onto her. He held his ground, grinning against the exposed skin of her neck.

"Next one," he commanded, running his nose along her neck until his lips rested on her collar bone, breathing heavily onto her flesh, inhaling her unique scent.

Emma groaned, subconsciously tilting her head to give him better access. "Lust." He growled at the word, tugging on her hair, licking a line along her collar bone, teeth grazing gently. She gasped, her hips rocking up on their own accord. Killian felt her movement, taking his free arm and wrapping it around her waist. "Wrath," she sighed, the heat of his body and seduction of his mouth doing wicked things inside her. "Covetousness."

"One more," he reminded her, his mouth working its way back up her neck, tongue tasting her skin occasionally. He felt her nod, one hand tightening in his shirt, the other gripping his arm.

"Sloth," she finished, exhaling loudly in relief. So much tension had built up during her recital of the sins that she hadn't even realized she had hardly been breathing. Before she could do anything, Killian was pressing her against him, lifting her slightly to place her back against on the seat of the couch, sliding forward to allow his body to hover of her own. His lips were covering hers in a heated kiss, as if they both needed it for survival. She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the way his arm under her lower back was lifting her hips up into his, pressing them together.

"Those words sound so beautiful dancing off of your innocent tongue, Fallen one" he whispered against her ear before biting on the sensitive skin of the lobe. His body was burning above hers, the kind of heat that should frighten her. His dark energy was humming dangerously around them, making her skin tingle with a pinprick pain she welcomed. "You saw them so well," he continued, nudging at her jaw with his nose. He felt her gasp and writhe beneath him, a cool sensation radiated from her body, her light energy fighting to ignore the pull towards his. The crucifix on her chest was practically jumping off of her skin and he had to fight every urge to tear it from her body.

"More," she pleaded, moving her hands to the front of his shirt, clumsily fumbling with the buttons. He quickly released his arms from around her, moving her hands out of the way to undo his shirt faster. He held her eyes as he peeled the black fabric from his chest, shoulders, and arms, tossing the piece of clothing away from their position. Green eyes, accented with faint white glow in the pupils, grew wide at the site of his bare torso, and he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his lips.

Emma placed her hands on his chest, just below his collarbones. He was scorching beneath her touch, tanned skin, toned muscle, and black hair dusted his torso, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. She licked her lips hungrily as his still-blue eyes fluttered at her touch, muscles twitching and contracting. He was stunning, absolutely beautiful, and she knew that his appearance only helped in his powers of seduction and deceit.

He couldn't take her touch or her explorative gaze anymore. He lunged forward, growling as his lowered himself on top of her, allowing his full weight to rest over her body. He buried his face in her chest, feeling her breasts hug around his nose and lips through the fabric of her sweater. She moaned as his hot breath danced over her sternum, wishing his lips were directly on her skin. He ran his hands down her body, tracing the side of her curves until his fingers tickled the skin at the hem of her sweater. "Please," she begged, nodding her head multiple times, giving him permission to touch her.

He groaned deeply into her chest, placing a kiss on the exposed skin before pushing the material over her body. She sat up enough to let him remove the clothing from her body, tossing it aside. Fire erupted in his eyes at the site of her naked torso only covered by her white bra. His hands ghosted around her stomach, giving her chills and heating her skin, leaving red marks behind. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, loving the way her closed eyes and parted lips looked in the dim light of the room. She placed her hands around his neck, fingers toying with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. She could feel him trying to keep the fire at bay, trying to keep from surrounding them in flames.

Her soul was burning, a sweet, slow burn that felt all too much and not enough at the same time. She wanted more, she _needed_ more of him, and it terrified her. She felt his scruff scratch along her chest, his lips kissing the swells of her breasts, licking at her cleavage, sucking and soothing the skin with his tongue. Pressing his hips harder into hers, she brought both hands up, cupping and kneading her breasts in both hands, relishing in her squirms and moans. "Fuck," he grunted, squeezing the swells a little harder, loving how they fit perfectly in his large hands. She pulled harder at his hair, dragging his face towards her, capturing his lips in a needy kiss.

He broke the kiss quickly, leaning back on his knees, grasping at her waist and he kissed a hot path down her body, teeth scraping along her rips, tongue dipping into her navel and swirling around each hip bone. He kept his hands tight around her waist, keeping her planted firmly in place. She sucked in a breath as his mouth hovered over the skin directly above the button of her jeans. Her hands, as if by their own accord, shot to his wrists, grabbing him tightly, enough to draw his attention back to her face. He could see the fear, the nervousness, in her eyes, the shock written clearly on her face. He silently cursed himself for going too far as he smiled at her, moving back up her body. He kissed her lips lightly once, then twice, before standing, searching for their discarded shirts.

"Killian, you-" she began, moving to sit up on the couch, the leather was cold against her heated skin, making her miss his warmth and comfort. He walked back over to the couch, holding her sweater out, a conflicted smile on his face. "You didn't do anything wrong," she blurted, pulling the sweater on, tugging the sides down to cover her stomach.

"No, I did," he corrected, sliding his arms into the soft material of his shirt, buttoning the bottom three buttons before sitting back down, keeping a few feet between them. "I find it hard to control myself around you."

"It's okay," she assured him, moving a little closer. She watched him tense up, but he didn't try to move away from her.

"I went too far, and I shouldn't have."

"I practically pleaded you to," Emma said with a huff, running her hand through her hair. He smiled at that, giving her a wink before his face returned to a more stoic state. "I don't know why I stopped you."

"You're innocent," he answered, looking at her intently. The flames in his eyes had died down to red embers, the heat trying to stay alive as long as it could. "You have every right to be anxious."

Emma shook her head in confusion, seeking out his hand, placing her fingers into his larger palm. "I don't want to be nervous," she started, scooting even closer to him. She leaned against his body, resting her head on his shoulder. Instead of needy passion, he felt affection towards her and allowed himself to wrap and around her shoulders. "Will this plan of yours, with the Seven Sins, help with this?"

"I have a feeling it will," he whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her body closer to his. She had meant it when she had said that she didn't know why she stopped him. She was loving all of the new sensations he was making her feel. Loved the way her skin felt close to bursting in flames, how the heaviness of his body on top of hers only fueled her desire for him, how his hot mouth and wicked tongue made her shiver and ache for him.

She didn't know what she was doing, but he seemed to bring out a primal side that she didn't know she had. She followed his lead, allowed her body to feel pleasure and pain, allowed what was left of her pure soul to accept the darkness he was pressing into her body. She wasn't entirely sure how his plan involving the Sins was going to work, how she wasn't going to actually enact them, but she trusted him. She was giving up a lot of herself, a lot of what she believed in, to explore this side of her that David, so gallantly, exposed to her.

She guessed, in a way, David was responsible for her change in attitude. The archangel she once called a brother had accepted her banishment and denounced her as holy. He had made her feel completely worthless in his eyes and in the eyes of the Lord, their Father. So, yeah, she would have her fun before deciding what path would do her the most good. She had a pull towards the darkness now that she had Fallen, but the light side of her, the holy, righteous side, still existed, and wouldn't give up without a fight. She only hoped that, with the demon that cared for her by her side, she could find her true self, find what side she was, ultimately, destined to be on.

She leaned into his touch while thoughts swam around in her head like sharks hunting their prey. Her intimacy with the demon was a sacrilege, a wonderful, passionate sacrilege that left her breathless and wanting. As she sat with him, holding onto his arms, resting her eyes and warming her abandoned soul, she could feel holiness seeping out. She could feel light oozing out of her pores, into the atmosphere where it rose and made its way back to its home. She watched the wisps disappear and found that she felt nothing as a small amount of her divine energy escaped, allowing a little more darkness to take its place.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I hope that the shortness was made up for by the ending of the chapter! Like I said above, I really just wanted to get this out here for you guys, and I figured that was a decent enough stopping point. I promise, the next chapter will be longer! Anyways, again, please forgive me for making you wait! It was killing me, but this chapter... was difficult for me to get through. I have no idea why. Please, your reviews and comments mean EVERYTHING! PM me with any questions or suggestions! I love hearing from you all! Until next time, my dark ones... -Bailey**_


	11. Chapter 11 - Hell Hath Fury

**A/N: Okay, so I hope this chapter goes over well with you all. I worked hard on it. I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope it's entertaining. There is a lot of plot development in this chapter, so heads up. For those asking when Emma and Killian will finally get around to fucking, we'll get there, no worries. It's a bit longer than all of the other chapters, so let me know if you enjoyed that, as well. Please, your reviews and comments really help out the muse :) Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been seven days, an entire week, since she had last seen him. Their last conversation, where he had basically seduced her into listing the Seven Deadly sins, had ignited her idea for exploring the darkness. It wasn't an unwelcomed seduction, the way his mouth had moved across her body, she would have said anything.

She hadn't even realized his hands under her shirt, wandering her stomach, and she needed more. Giving him permission to rid her of the sweater was freeing, and exhilarating. She had never experienced the internal heat that was concentrated in her chest and between her legs, but she could only classify it as primal desire.

Seven days, since he had simply messaged her on the device he gifted. It was rather impersonal for their current circumstances, and it worried her, she could not lie. She sifted through the messages whenever she was alone, searching for something within his words that would hint to why he had gone.

 _ **Killian: How are you feeling, my Angel?**_

She had stared at his message, wondering why he asked her that question. She didn't know why he always felt in the wrong whenever they were together, maybe it had something to do with their completely opposite forces, but that would affect her the most, or it should, anyway.

 _ **Emma: Quite well. Should I feel otherwise?**_

 _ **Killian: I should hope not, however, my actions last night were less than gentlemanly.**_

 _ **Emma: You did nothing I didn't want, Killian.**_

 _ **Emma: If anything, you were a gentleman for stopping us, even though I didn't wish it.**_

She knew he felt guilty about what had happened. They had gone far, way farther then she had imagined them to go while walking to his apartment. Being the kind of angel she had been, pleasures of the body had never come to her mind. She had never imagined what a man, or woman, would feel like under or over her. She had never thought about what another person's weight would feel like on top of her own. She certainly had never imagined how hot a demon's body could feel against her own skin. She desired Killian, that wasn't something she could hide anymore, but she had no idea what that meant, or what to do with that desire. Her body had moved on its own accord the previous night, her hips rolling under his, pushing up against his body. Purely instinctual moves, and he knew that. He knew she wasn't mentally ready, and that's why he stopped. He both respected and despised him for that.

 _ **Killian: Emma, Innocent One, you do not know what you wish to continue.**_

 _ **Killian: I promise to show you when the time is right, and you are ready.**_

 _ **Emma: Be careful, Demon, you're beginning to sound kind :)**_

She had watched Ruby make the happy-looking symbol before, and she felt that it might add the touch of lightness in her words she wanted him to grasp. It was hard to convey emotions through text, but simple symbols might be able to help.

 _ **Killian: Only for you.**_

Her heart clenched while reading this, completely taken aback by his admission of his fealty to her. She knew in her heart, now more than ever, that whatever was going on between them, needed to happen. She needed to understand what she felt, and she needed to feel how he felt. She wanted it all with him, and was willing to sell little pieces of her righteous soul to get it.

 _ **Killian: Unfortunately, I've messaged to inform you of a delay in our plans.**_

 _ **Emma: What do you mean?**_

 _ **Killian: I have been summoned away for a short period.**_

 _ **Emma: Below?**_

She had stood frozen, looking at the screen, waiting for his reply. It was hardly ever a good thing to be summoned back to where you belong, even for the Angels.

 _ **Killian: Yes, Angel. Just a quick discussion is all. I should return promptly.**_

 _ **Emma: Are you in trouble?**_

 _ **Killian: No, no. Nothing like that.**_

 _ **Killian: I must leave. I'll contact you as soon as I return. Until then, Emma.**_

 _ **Emma: See you soon, Killian.**_

She never failed to smile while looking at his words. He didn't write as one would believe a creature of Hell to write, nor did he have the same evil intent. _Only for her_ he had said, and the fact did make her feel coveted, even if only because she felt abandoned by her own kind. She knew there was more to his summoning, more than he was willing to tell, and that's what worried her. He was too short with his words, he wasn't the impossible flirt he always was. Seven days and not a word from him, not even an inkling of a feeling. A week of bizarre cold, as if the Demon had keep the town warmer just with his presence within it, filled with mundane work at the diner and lonely evenings, without his witty conversation.

She shouldn't feel so empty, so hollow, without him around. They hadn't spent that much time together, but she felt a connection with him. All of the times he's seen her at her worst, he'd even saved her from one of his own. All in all, she missed him, and even her friend could sense something was wrong. All week Emma had been off, feeling confused and worried, unable to explain why she looked a little less bright that she usually looked.

"Did something happen with Killian?" Ruby had blurted the question while the two women cleaned the tables off for the night. The brunette hadn't said much about Emma's saddened attitude all week, but she was fed up with working with a shell.

"No, why do you ask?" Emma replied curtly. It didn't feel good to lie, it never felt good to sin for her, but she had to, it's not like she could tell Ruby where he had gone.

"Then what's with the moping?" she asked, tossing a rag on the table she was cleaning, placing her hand on her hips and looking directly at Emma.

"I'm not moping, I'm cleaning," again, another lie escaped through her teeth, she must not be good at it because Ruby sighed loudly before walking up to stand in front of her.

"Enough with this, Emma," she began, her eyes filled with hurt and concern. "I feel that I've been very respectful of your privacy and space. I haven't asked a single fucking question about what happened the night I found you against the church door. You finally started to smile, _truly_ smile, and all this week you've gone back to looking, well, empty."

Emma stared at her friend, understanding every word that left her red-tinted mouth. She was right. She hadn't asked her anything about that night, and most people would have. She hadn't tried to pry into her past, not like she would get a truthful answer anyway. Ruby had been nothing but kind and understanding to her plight, so the least the Emma could do was tell her as much as she could. "Killian had to leave town last week. I just haven't heard from him, that's all."

Ruby studied her for a moment before letting a small frown curve on her lips. "Oh, Emma, why didn't you say anything?" she asked before giving her a hug, squeezing her tightly, trying to fill the blonde with friendship.

"There's nothing much to say," Emma admitted, unable to actually explain her complicated relationship with the demon masquerading as a businessman.

"But aren't you guys kind of, you know, together?"

"I don't know, we've been talking for a while," she explained, pulling out of the brunette's tightening embrace.

"Only talking?" Ruby asked, a sly grin spreading across her full lips. Emma could see the twinkle of knowing in her eyes. "There's no way you can be in a room with a man that gorgeous and only talk."

"We might have kissed," Emma admitted, smiling shyly, looking down at the ground. Ruby squealed in delight, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Did he kiss you, or did you kiss him?" Ruby stood, waiting, she looked just as intrigued as someone who was watching a great movie. It was part of Ruby's charm; she genuinely cared about her friend's and the goings on in their lives.

"He kissed me," Emma added with a smile. It was nice to be able to talk about this with someone. She would probably need Ruby's advice in a lot of things regarding the topic of physical pleasures, not wanting Killian to be the only person showing her what to do. She wasn't embarrassed by her lack of experience, it was who she was, and it had worked, for a while. Now, her situation changed and not looking anywhere near good, she wanted the experience.

"Oh," Ruby said, feigning a swoon by placing the back of her hand on her forehead and leaning back slightly. "How romantic!"

Emma couldn't help but giggle and push Ruby's shoulder lightly. She really was blessed to have met this woman, maybe she would pray her thanks to the Father. She was exploring her darkness, not giving up her fealty to God. "Yeah, I guess it was."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Another day gone, and still no word from Killian. It was Sunday, and Ruby had invited Emma to go to church with her, Victor, and Granny. She happily accepted the offer, grateful to be going with someone, since she hadn't been able to walk back into the church since her conversation with Mary Margaret in the confessional.

Without proper church clothes, Emma donned a pair of darker jeans and a thick beige sweater, pulling the crucifix out to rest over the garment, gleaming in the light. The too-shiny gold reminded her of home, of David's armor, and Mary Margaret's hairpiece. Gold wasn't a rare metal in Heaven, but it was still precious and represented purity and holiness among those who wore it. Her crucifix had been a gift from both David and Mary Margaret. They gave it to her right before her first holy mission to Earth. They said it would protect her from evil and keep her righteous and pure.

She met up with Ruby and everyone else right outside the small church. She no longer shuddered when faced with the wooden door, and she took it as a step in the right direction. She didn't want a house of worship to be a place of anxiety for her. Once inside and seated, the warm radiating from the heater relaxed her tense muscles. She was too worried about Killian, without any real evidence for the feeling. She decided to push thoughts about him away. Right now, she needed to pray and talk to God, listen to the sermon delivered by the town's holy man.

The introductory rites and procession started smoothly. Emma didn't even have to pay that much attention. She knew everything by heart. She knew when to stand and sit, respond or stay quiet, pray or reflect. The priest's sermon focused on having strong will in order to fight unholy temptation. Emma slightly grinned as he spoke, finding it extremely fitting for her predicament. Killian could _definitely_ be classified as an unholy temptation.

When it came time for the Eucharistic prayer, everyone in the congregation stooped to kneel on the provided rests. She knelt respectfully, bowing her head and folding her hands together by her lips. Just as the prayer was beginning the world around her began to cloud away, fading off into a distant stand-still, time moving slower for them while she remained present. Without warning, two astral figures appeared before her, realistic projections of two individuals she recognized immediately. David's strong frame hovered next to Mary Margaret's delicate one, pained expressions on their faces. Emma could do nothing by watch as their bodies became surrounded in flames, as if their flesh was on fire. She looked on in horror as their faces twisted in agony, their mouths open in a silent scream.

Their feathered wings slowly burnt away, leaving bleeding, skeletal remains, bits of burnt flesh clinging to the scorched bone. Simultaneously, they both pointed off to the left, the skin dangling off browned finger bones. Emma slowly turned to the direction they pointed, eyes widening in horror at the sight before her. The first thing she saw was piercing blue irises, the smirk on his lips reaching the corners of his eyes, accentuated with the gleam of delight. Killian was engulfed in flames, his skin unharmed, looking all the beautiful and treacherous demon that he was. There was a smaller body in front of him, a woman, with long blonde hair. What was left of her skin was pale, the rest was blackened from the flames. While she wasn't as harmed as David and Mary Margaret, she wasn't completely untouched. It wasn't until the woman opened her eyes that Emma recognized herself, half burning, half savoring the flames that licked at her body. One of Killian's arms was wrapped around the front of her shoulders and chest, holding her to him, the other hand was twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. Even though her skin appeared scalded in areas, there was a smile on her face, green eyes filled with adoration and content.

The figure of Killian winked at her, bending down to kiss the cheek of her projected body. Emma, still kneeling, couldn't move to help the other angels, couldn't move to reach out to Killian. She was forced to watch, helplessly, as her fellow angels burned alive while the demon and her own body watched and reveled in the show. It was becoming too much, too hard to breathe. There was a sudden pressure on the side of her arm as she quickly came back to reality. In a blink she was back in the church, still kneeling. Her knuckles were white and still crossed in front of her lips as she looked around to find everyone else seated back in the pews. Ruby had nudged her arm, a look of concern washed across her beautiful features.

Emma hurriedly pressed herself back into the bench, nodding at Ruby, reassuring her that she was okay. The brunette didn't appear satisfied but she left it alone, turning her attention back to the priest at the altar. The next few prayers went by slowly as Emma pondered on her vision. Was it chance that the figures appeared while in church? Was it a sign about Killian? She knew it was anger directed towards her. She knew it was to show her that Killian would do nothing but destroy her kind and take her down with him.

When it was time for the Breaking of the Bread, everyone in the congregation willing to take communion lined up in the aisle. At the front of the altar stood the priest and the altar boy, Henry. The boy was about fourteen years old, Ruby had explained, and was an orphan. The nuns were looking after him, quite well, it appeared. Emma stood behind Granny, Victor, and Ruby as they slowly made their way up the line.

Henry held the bowl containing the communion wafers and Father Hopper held the silver chalice of wine. Emma always appreciated when church's held to tradition and shared a communion cup instead of handing out individual sips. She felt it brought the congregation together, united them as one in the name of the Lord. She watched as the boy placed a wafer in Ruby's mouth, smiling at the woman innocently. It warmed her heart to see a boy who had lost everything seem so happy. Emma took the last step forward, allowing Henry to place the thin crisp onto her tongue, smiling at her as well. She was about to thank him as a salty flavor and tough consistency filled her mouth as she chewed the symbolic bread. She kept chewing, realizing that it was more a meat than wafer, and that she was the only one that seemed surprised by it.

Trying to keep alarm off of her face, she took a step to the left, greeted by Father Hopper holding out the chalice for her to drink from. Emma saw familiar dark-red liquid, bringing her lips to the silver and allowing a small amount of the fluid to fill her mouth. Salt and copper coated her tongue, swallowing quickly in order to keep concern off of her face. She looked around at everyone who seemed complexly at ease, as if everything had been normal. She took her seat next to Ruby once again, giving her friend a fake smile before focusing on the front of the room, where the large crucifix hung.

The rest of Mass ran without any surprises and once the final blessings were delivered, everyone stood up to leave. With one final Sign of the Cross towards the crucifix, Emma followed Ruby out of the doors and into the chilly air. Granny and Victor were standing close, waiting for the two women to join them.

"That was a great sermon, wasn't it?" the old woman asked, rubbing her hands together next to her mouth.

"Very enlightening," Victor chimed, wrapping his arm around Ruby's waist, once she was in reach. Emma was still fond of the couple, she could tell they genuinely cared for one another, similar and different in all the right ways.

"Definitely thought provoking," Emma added, crossing her arms over her chest. The weather was undeniably colder with Killian away from the town. He _had_ to be keeping the temperatures, at least, a little warmer than this.

"Anyone care for brunch at the diner?" Granny suggested, moving her gaze between the three of them.

"Of course, that sounds great!" Ruby exclaimed, looking up at Victor to see if he wanted to. The man smiled and gave a short nod. "How about you, Emma?"

The blonde tried to look disappointed, knowing she was successful by the immediate frown on Ruby's face. "I would, but I'm pretty tired," she explained, fidgeting with the skin around her nails. "I think I'll head back to my room and take a nap."

"Okay," Ruby whined, looping her arm through Emma's. "At least we can all walk to Granny's together." Emma smiled lightly as Victor stood on the other side of the brunette, gripping her hand in his larger one. The older woman had already started walking back, not wanting to wait for the younger people to make decisions.

Once they made it to the diner, Victor immediately went to find a booth, allowing the two girls to talk. "Thanks for inviting me to come with you guys," Emma stated, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Of course," Ruby replied, pulling her friend in for a tight hug. She rubbed her back a couple of times before pulling away, holding on to Emma's shoulders at arm's length. "Text me when you wake up?"

"I will," Emma promised, patting one of Ruby's hands before heading towards the narrow hallway that lead upstairs to the rooms. Once inside her own room, she kicked off her shoes, walking over to the sink to fill a glass with water, gulping the contents down in three swallows. The vision she had during Mass was still haunting her thoughts. It was meant to scare her, and it worked, but she wasn't sure how to take it. David and Mary Margaret were examples for what she was doing to her kind, and her Heavenly Father. The most disturbing part was her half-burned body, smiling, in the arms of the demon setting her entire world on fire. She had enjoyed the burn, wanted to be in his arms, and didn't seem to care about the Angels burning alive next to her.

She sat on the bed, rubbing her eyes before leaning back, breathing deeply to try and calm her nerves. After a few moments, she reached for her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, tapping the screen to life and opened her text messages. Nothing new from Killian. She stared at his name on the screen, almost angry at him. He had promised he wouldn't be long, that he would be back shortly. It had been a whole week with no word. He didn't owe her any explanations, didn't need her permission, but she was unsure about the way they left things between them. She was so inexperienced with this sort of thing, she wasn't even sure there was anything, and if there was, what was it? She felt a connection, a want, and a _need_ while around him, that was the only thing she was sure of.

Setting the phone down next to her on the bed, Emma sighed, throwing an arm over her eyes and letting the other rest over her stomach. She hadn't been sleeping well, not wanting to admit that worrying about Killian had been keeping her up at night. The first blissful waves of sleep came rolling calmly, washing over her and deepening her breaths. She was always grateful for that moment of peace right before sleep overcomes the mind. It was always the only time where she wasn't thinking or worrying about something, or someone. It was the briefest of moments where she actually felt rest occur. Sleep came slowly, but gracefully, slipping Emma into a wonderful pool of nothingness as her mind finally calmed gave up control.

 _It was hot. Everything was hot. Her skin, her blood, her surroundings; it was stifling and pleasurable, a sweet torture that was driving her insane. She was naked, face-down on a bed, sheets of dark silk, smelling of smoke and spice, a unique scent she knew all too well._

 _She knew he was there, knew he was close. She could feel his energy buzzing around her, dancing over her flesh, making her ache with want. She suddenly felt two strong, warm hands wrap around her calves, massaging the muscle slowly. Lips ran across one ankle, quickly touching the other before a warm tongue ran up her leg. She shivered from the contact, pulling a deep chuckle from the demon behind her. His touch no longer marred her skin, no longer caused her extreme pain. She had welcomed him into her life, welcomed his contact, breaking the energy that caused their painful touches._

 _"You look divine," he murmured, voice deep and rough. The accent he had adopted centuries ago remained, and she loved the way words rolled off his wicked tongue. "On display for me like this."_

 _"Yes," she whispered as his hands ran up the backs of her thighs, squeezing her ass before resting on her lower back. He spread her legs apart, nudging his knees between them, giving him a perfect view of her virgin organ. He groaned at the sight of her pink flesh, glistening with want, just begging to be taken._

 _"Am I going to be the one to deflower you, Emma?" he asked, leaning down, pressing his chest into her back, hissing as her cool skin contrasted with his overheated body. Lifting his hand, he carefully slid a finger through her wet folds, gathering the evidence of her arousal and bringing it to his lips. He groaned at her taste on his finger, only able to imagine what she must taste like from the source. He brought the same finger to her lips, allowing her to lick at her essence in earnest. "You taste of innocence, do you have any idea what that does to me?"_

 _She moaned at his words, licking her lips clean, sucking on his digit lightly. Wetness continued to pool between her legs, his voice arousing her further than a voice should. His hand returned to her sensitive area, cupping her mound, his angle from behind allowed his thumb to tease her tight entrance. Her hips bucked back on their own accord, fisting the sheets next to her head, biting some of the smooth silk between her teeth for purchase. "Please, more," she begged, tilting her head to look behind her. His eyes were blazing, his skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat, not from heat but from desire._

 _He groaned loudly, rutting his hips against her ass, unable to control the movement. "I love to hear you beg for it." His voice was low and accent thick, his free hand moving to massage one side of her ass, the other thumb still teasing her. "Beg me to take you, Emma."_

 _"Please take me," she begged, pressing back into his hand. She had no control of the way she was moving, she had become an animal, prey to the predator behind her, and she wanted it that way. "Take me, please."_

 _"Take you and make you mine?" he asked, more of a demand than anything. He removed his hand from her glistening entrance, placing the same hand on the back of her neck. He pressed his body onto hers, completely covering her lithe form in his heated embrace. His lips attacked her neck and shoulder, licking and biting his way across her pale skin, leaving marks and wet paths._

 _"Yes," Emma replied, mewling as his mouth sucked at her skin. "Take me and make me yours, Killian." She was beyond argument, beyond rational thought. She needed the ache between her thighs to stop, needed more heat on her skin, and needed him inside of her._

 _"As you wish, Fallen one," he grunted, lifting himself up enough to align his thick cock to her soaking hole. She felt him rear back, his hand in her hair, the other holding her in place at her lower back, and then nothing but black as he thrust forward._

She awoke, startled and panting. She was covered in a hot sweat, her sweater and jeans clinging to her body. She was still in her room at Granny's, it was daylight and only two hours had passed. Emma sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes while sitting up and swinging her legs off of the bed. It was another erotic dream featuring the beautiful demon named Killian. Much like the first, it was incredibly realistic; she could still feel his touch and his lips, the way his hips rocking into hers. Everything was so vivid, the fire, the silk sheets of his bed, the fire in his eyes. She still felt the ache between her thighs, in that place she hasn't been touched yet. She wants it to be him, she _needs_ it to be him. Killian taking away that last part of her would be blasphemous, putting it lightly, but it would be beautiful. She knew he would pleasure her in ways she could never imagine (it was one of his specialties, after all).

It was the leap into the decision that was hard. She wasn't sure if she was ready to give that up. She didn't know what would happen if she went against her title as an Innocent and finally gave her virtue away. Thinking about it, she didn't feel like she would be giving anything away. A sexual encounter with the demon, the one that cared for her, would, hopefully, but a world-shattering experience. She believed in fate, and she knew that there had to be a reason that she Fell in the town he resided in. She was meant to meet him again, whether it would take her to damnation below, or lift her into salvation, into the Heaven above.

Grabbing her phone sitting on the bed next to her, she started to type a new message to Ruby. She hadn't spent much time with her friend lately, so she hoped to be able to now. She quickly wrote a message asking to meet her downstairs at the diner for coffee. She stayed seated until her phone buzzed with Ruby's reply. Emma smiled at the amount of emojis her friend used to convey her excitement. Planning to meet her down in half an hour, Emma quickly peeled the sweaty clothes off and headed for the shower. She hoped the hot water would calm her body from the dream, but it only reminded her of his touch. Shamelessly, she stood in the shower, letting the water roll down her body as if it were Killian making the heat. She laughed at herself as she turned the water off, drying herself haphazardly before throwing on jeans and a sweatshirt. Before heading out the door, she looks at her phone again, hoping that there would be a message from Killian. There isn't. She shoves the device into her back pocket before locking the door behind her. Hopefully coffee with Ruby will get the dream of his body behind hers out of her head.

By the time she made it down the stairs, Ruby was already in a booth, two mugs of steaming liquid on the table in front of her. She smiled as Emma made her way towards the table, adjusting her seat as Emma took hers. "How did you sleep?"

"Great," Emma replied, wrapping her cold hands around the mug before her. "How was brunch earlier?"

"Amazing!" Ruby exclaimed, taking a sip of her coffee. "I've been wanting Granny to spend more time with Victor, now that we're getting serious."

"How serious is serious?" Emma asked, squinting her eyes playfully. Ruby didn't seem like the type of person that settled down for anyone, including the town's only doctor.

"We're exclusive," she said proudly, a smug grin on her face. "Before we were just casually dating, but yesterday we made it clear we didn't want to be seeing other people."

Emma looked shocked as she took a sip from her mug. She had never really understood how relationships worked in the modern times, with everyone feeling entitled to everyone, and all that. She had always appreciated watching the mortals in earlier times, where courting was important. "That does sound serious."

"At least for me, anyways," Ruby replied, clearly aware of the type of person she appeared to be. She was herself, entirely, completely unashamed of it, and that was one of her most attractive features. "Enough about that, have you heard from Killian?"

Emma's face fell, she had really been hoping she wouldn't have to talk about him, but that was an impossible wish with Ruby. "No, not yet," she said, staring into the black liquid of her coffee.

"I didn't even know he was gone, I haven't been to his bar in over a week," Ruby commented idly, peering around the diner, simply people watching. "Did he say why he was leaving?"

"No," Emma admitted, tapping her fingers on the table. "I assume it's something to do with business."

"I bet you're right," Ruby said with enthusiasm, downing the remaining coffee in her mug. Emma could tell she wasn't saying everything. Ruby didn't know what a bar owner could possibly be doing for business outside of the town, but she wouldn't tell Emma that. "Emma, does he make you happy?"

She looked up at her friend, the question was sincere, showing she only wanted good things for her. "Yeah, he does," Emma replied, smiling without realizing it. It was surprising to her that she actually felt so strongly for him. It was more than a physical attraction, and it had to be something to do with their connection that they both couldn't explain. It was almost as if it were meant to be.

"That's all that matters," Ruby stated, reaching over and putting her hand over Emma's. "But know, if he ever hurts you, I will make his life a living hell." Emma laughed at her words, the irony so ridiculous that she wished she could tell Ruby why it was so funny.

The girls stayed in the diner, drinking two more cups of coffee before grabbing a light dinner of Granny's homemade chicken noodle soup. Emma tried to keep Killian out of her mind while with Ruby, hoping the brunette would be distraction enough. It worked for some time until flashes of her dream appeared every time she closed her eyes. They weren't unwelcomed, but maybe not while she was in the company of others. Remembering the solid weight of him pressing into the back of her body, dream or not, would help her get through his absence.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Now, can someone _please_ tell me what it is I'm doing here?" he yelled irritably into the room. He was in a place he hadn't been in decades, preferring the scenery of the world above much more. He had been summoned back to Hell for a specific reason, a reason he had yet to find out.

"Deputy, wonderful for you to join us down here," a wicked, feminine voice boomed throughout the room. She walked around a corner, tight, black satin covering the important parts of her body. She was the epitome of elegance, had been since he had first met her those many years ago, back when she was still mortal.

Killian smiled a large, fake smile, slightly bowing at her presence. He might not enjoy her company, but he wouldn't disrespect a superior of her stature, no matter how much he wanted to. "Milady, I couldn't agree more," he responded, trying to hide his annoyance. They both knew their civility was only because of who they were to Him, and neither had any problem showing it.

"You're wondering why you've been called down, I assume," she said, sitting down in a stone throne-like chair, crossing her long legs, resting her hands on her knee. She was a beautiful woman, he wouldn't deny that, but he hated the complete bitch that she was.

"Avidly, Regina," he admitted, giving her every ounce of sass he could muster, which was a lot. She appeared to be waiting for something else, and he bowed down and rolled his hand in the air in a complete act of theatrics. "Your majesty."

She seemed pleased with his act, giving him a knowing grin before looking down at her darkly painted nails. "Yes, well, something rather interesting has come to my attention." Killian stared at the woman impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for her to continue. "It seems that an angel I ordered to be killed is still alive. Interesting, right?"

Killian kept his face slightly amused, even at Regina's words. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him sweat, metaphorically, of course. "You seem to have lost me, love."

"I'm going to forget you called me that," she said, completely unamused, adjusting in her seat. "I sent a worthless, little Imp up there not too long ago, and I have yet to hear from him. You wouldn't happen to have seen one, have you?"

"Not that I can recall," he replied, folding his hands behind his back. He maintained stoic features, unsure of what could happen at any moment. "I keep track of the damned in that area."

"I assume he's dead, he was only an Imp, after all," she continued, standing from her seat and walking slowly towards Killian. "I had his energy tethered to mine, so that I would know when his mission was completed, but I never felt it."

"As you said, your majesty," he commented carefully, watching the woman approach him dangerously. "He was only and Imp, it wouldn't take much for an angel to kill him."

Regina smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, instead they were filled with contempt. "The thing is, Deputy," she whispered, standing only a few inches from him. Her sky-high heels put her at eye level, making it impossible to discretely avoid eye contact. "He wasn't sent to kill an ordinary angel, and Imp could never do that, but they could kill a Fallen Angel."

Killian swallowed thickly, understanding the direction of their conversation. He was practically powerless against her, even he was the one to damn her. She belonged to Lucifer, and she was protected by him, given energy way beyond her years of servitude. She was the Evil Queen of this place, and there was nothing he could do if she wanted to kill him. "What are you getting at, Regina?"

"I'm so glad you asked," the woman laughed in front of him, a treacherous spark in her dark eyes. There was a tremble of energy between them, and before Killian could register how uncomfortable he was becoming, Regina had a fistful of his hair, pushing him to his knees before her. "When I found out she was the one that Fell all those nights ago, I was thrilled!" she yelled, looking down at him, anger written across her face. Flames had begun to surround them in the stone room, fueled by her power.

"Who are we talking about?" he asked sarcastically, wincing as she pulled his head back by the hair in her hands. He was powerless against her, completely at her will, and whim; a body to do whatever she wanted with.

"That fucking bitch that pretended to be my friend and then handed me over to you!" Regina screamed, the slightest amount of wetness building up at the rims of her eyes. "Don't play stupid, Killian!" Fire roared closer and closer, only adding to the already sweltering heat of Hell.

"Sorry, milady," he expressed through clenched teeth, a sly grin on his lips. "I'm at a loss." He watched as the woman smiled darkly and crouched down in front of him, still keeping her head above his.

"Blonde, pretty, big, green eyes. Does any of that ring a bell?" she listed off, raising her eyebrows at him. When he didn't reply, she simply tugged at his hair again, bringing her other hand to grip his jaw. "Oh, I know," she leered, voice low and dripping with evil. The woman was purely evil, and had hatred in the black hole of her heart. "Recently crucified."

He tried with every ounce of strength he had to keep control over his facial features, but he couldn't stop the way his jaw clenched or how his eyes widened the slightest bit at her words. He knew she saw the slight way his features changed, and she looked pleased. He remained silent, maintaining eye contact with the horrible woman as she looked down at him with a knowing look. He tried to shift under her hand, but she wouldn't allow it, giggling at his attempts to break free from her grasp.

"Tell me, Deputy," she demanded, her voice almost moaning, as if she were getting off on this. "How much of her blood was spilt on that cross?" He growled deeply, rage flooding into his mind, the urge to murder her was strong. "Know who I'm talking about now?"

"Your plan didn't work, Regina, deal with it," he spat, trying to keep a calm air about him. He didn't need to anger her to the point that she decided to keep him there.

"And why didn't it work, Killian?" she yelled, still crouching in front of him. Flames were beginning to lick at their bodies, adding more heat and intensity to the situation. He could tell she already knew what he had done, but she wanted him to own up to it.

"I killed the Imp," the confession was quiet and completely without remorse. Killian simply looked at her with one of his smirks.

"Normally, I wouldn't care, but I've wanted Emma dead since you damned me here. Finding out she had Fallen for what she did to me finally gave me hope of killing her," she whispered, pain evident in her voice. "Walsh had stalked her for a couple of days, and he had reported that she had been talking with you. I'm sure you can understand my surprise at that news." He said nothing, allowing the woman to rant on, seeing no positive end to this conversation. "Feeling the Imp being destroyed wasn't upsetting, it was recognizing the energy behind his ruin. Your energy, Deputy."

"I already confessed to killing him, Regina," he started, but she placed a finger over his mouth, quieting any of his attempts to keep talking. She was telling her story, and the likes of Killian wouldn't stop her.

"I asked myself why you would obliterate an Imp that was in the process of killing one of her kind, but then it came to me. It's almost not even a surprise." She was trying to hold back her laughter, only letting a small giggle escape her dark, red lips.

"Enough with the theatrics, Regina," he said coolly, scowling at the woman taking so much joy from his discomfort. "What is it you have to say?"

"You're such a beautiful creature," Regina commented, grabbing his jaw with her free hand and licking the side of his face, her tongue leaving a path of scalded skin in its wake. He couldn't control the feral growl that rolled from his chest, more from anger than pain. "I'm sure you have that Fallen Angel wrapped around your little finger. Or should I say cock, knowing who you are?"

Killian made an attempt to attack her, but her energy was stronger, and she easily kept him pinned down on his knees. The side of his face was still red, and she loved seeing her mark on his handsome features. His resolve was beginning to wear thin, Regina had picked and prodded at his patience, knowing damn well what she could do once he was riled up.

"I hope you've had your fun with her, Deputy," she said, releasing him from her grasp and walking away from him. Exposing her back only showed her own power, she didn't fear he would try anything, and knew he would never have the freedom to do so. If he had ever tried to harm her, he would be forbidden to enter the mortal world again. He would be forced to spend eternity is the fiery pits along with the other damned souls that inhabited his original home.

"What have you done, Regina?" Killian asked, rage coating the words that left his mouth. She seemed to have the upper hand, seemed to know something that he didn't. He instantly became fearful for her, and it was a foreign feeling for him. He had felt this before, this hollow in his stomach, a cold chill sitting within him. He had felt it the night he found her on the cross. He wondered if this was what worry felt like. Dread for another being?

"I've done nothing," she said, acting as innocent as she could be. "But the Master isn't pleased that his Deputy hasn't brought him that Fallen Angel yet. You could easily overpower her and drag her down, but you haven't." she droned on, turning back towards him and walking around him in a steady stride. "Why is that, Killian? Are you trying to keep her for yourself?"

"I'm wanting to corrupt her first," he replied, knowing playing along would be the only way out of this situation.

"Save it," she said, holding a hand out to stop him from explaining. She could tell he was lying, and he wasn't fooling anyone. "He's giving the task to someone else, someone exceptionally more powerful than that idiot Imp I sent."

"Who is he sending?" Killian asked softly, actual fear coursing through him. He hadn't felt fear like this in centuries, the last time was when he had royally fucked up and had been punished by Lucifer himself.

Regina laughed, pulling a long, golden blade from the fire surrounding them. Before Killian could react, she was on him, one hand wrapped around his left wrist, her heeled shoe digging into his thigh until he collapsed to his knees once more. "Oh, you know him quite well, actually," she leered, taking the blade and dragging it down his left forearm, from elbow to palm. Dark blood seeped out of the wound, but she kept going, slicing and stabbing at his skin, her eyes full of delight at his pain.

Killian refused to cry out, only allowing grunts and growls as she dealt her punishment. It was personal, and he knew it, she wanted to see him suffer much like he had made her almost a century ago. The gold blade ensured he wouldn't heal properly, leaving scars as a constant reminder of this moment. The moment that she all but called out war with him. It was their nature, after all, to hurt and take what they wanted, even if it was against their own kind. Their rules were simple, be as horrible as you could, but always do the work of the King of Darkness.

Once she was satisfied with the damage to his arm, she stood up, licking the blade clean of his blood, making it disappear into the flames again. "Mammon will do what you won't, Deputy, and you know that to be true."

Her tone was serious, lacking of any mockery or jest. The air around Killian burst into flames, engulfing him completely. He was being sent back, without anything more than the name of the demon coming to take the one thing he cared about. Mammon was the son of Satan, he was incredibly powerful and elusive. Angels found it almost impossible to detect him, and he was just as evil to his own kind. He could rule the mortal world if given permission, and Killian knew that Emma wasn't safe as long as Mammon was in the mortal world. He had no idea when he would come, but he knew he would, most likely at the least convenient time.

After a few moments of flames, the dirt above him parted and he was spat back out into the town he now called home. He had no idea how long he was gone, had no idea of Mammon was here already or not. The only thing he knew was that he needed to see Emma. He needed to hold her, see that she was safe, and taste her lips again. He winced, the pain in his left arm increasing to a throb, but he couldn't care about it, he didn't have time.

It was dark out, the stars shining brightly above. He knew it had to be past midnight, and was thankful that he was alone on the streets once he made it into town. He jogged towards Granny's, his arm dripping dark blood onto the pavement. Each drop sizzled as it hit the cool pavement, scorching the ground as steam rose from the drops. He opened the side door leading to the guest rooms, walking up the stairs in a sort of daze. He had never felt this way, so concerned for another being, but also so excited to see them. He had missed her, for however long he was gone, and he wanted more than anything to see her again. Time worked differently in Hell and in Heaven. He felt as if he was only gone for a couple of hours, but he could have been gone for much longer on this side.

He found her door and knocked hard, banging his good hand against the door a few more times when it didn't open immediately. It seemed like eternity waiting to hear something, to feel her presence; time stood still and all he could do was focus on the door.

Emma heard the knocks, the aggressiveness of them, and knew it had to be him. She didn't know who else would be knocking like that. Ruby would have called her or would be yelling if it were an emergency. As she approached the door cautiously, she felt heat seep under the crack, her confirmation that it was the demon she had hoped.

She opened the door to find Killian in his typical all-black ensemble, breathing hard and covered in soot. He looked instantly relieved at her presence, his eyes closing for a second before searing into her with an all-out passion. She looked down to see his arm, torn open and dripping with black blood.

"Killian," she whispered, completely in awe. She had gone over a week without knowing where he was or if he would actually return, and now he was standing in front of her, dirty and bloody, looking beaten in some way. He stood there silently, his breathing still heavy, looking as if he had witnessed a miracle. She held out her arm to him, granting him access into her room. He didn't take her hand, instead he rushed inside, closing her door behind him before wrapping his arms around her body and crushing his lips to hers.

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 _ **A/N: Yes... the classic cliffhanger! I hope the development in this chapter is exciting for you guys. It just kind of hit me half way into this chapter. I think this will add a bit of excitement and danger into their escapades. You like how I integrated the left hand injury? I had to put it somewhere, just had to. Spoiler for next chapter: things will definitely heat up ;) Reviews and Comments always appreciated! Remember, you can PM me if you want! Until next time, dark ones, -Bailey**_


	12. Chapter 12 - Blood Runs Black

_**A/N: ... I know... I know. But, please let me explain! My husband has been gone all month, and my mother came to visit. Now, let me tell you, in case this has never happened to you, writing smut with your mother in the room is impossible. Kind of ruins the mood. Anyways, please don't kill me! I know you'll love this chapter, and you'll love me for it! It's a bit shorter than I had hoped, but I wanted to get this out there for you guys, so that means next chapter will probably bit longer. I hope this will be worth your long wait! Happy reading! HUGE thanks to Buffybabe42 for always leaving me great reviews and comments, you've really helped the muse out!**_

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There was an urgency in his kiss, feeling more than a want for something that hasn't been had in over a week, but something else. It lingered between them as deepened the kiss, demanding entry into the depths of her mouth, his tongue tasting every inch he could. He hadn't said a single word, and he didn't make a move to, instead, he hugged her against his body even tighter, pressing her into the heat of him, molding them together.

She couldn't help the soft whimper that escaped her mouth as a hand made its way under her t-shirt, tickling her skin and lighting a fire inside of her. She was glad that she had changed once inside her room after coffee and diner with Ruby. His blood was soaking into the shirt, hot and wet at her back. It was his turn to moan when his hand didn't feel a bra, his fingers pressing into the bare skin there. He pulled himself away from her long enough to pull his own shirt off, quickly bending down to capture her lips in another desperate kiss.

The short glimpse she had of him showed he didn't appear to be injured anywhere else but his left arm, although it didn't seem to bother him much. She ran her hands up his stomach, feeling contracting muscle and soft hair, his skin growing even hotter the higher her fingers went. Emma touched him with the same fervor he grasped at her with, trying to feel every inch and memorize the way the other felt. His lips were everywhere and it was nowhere near enough for her. His mouth traveled down her chin, running along her jaw line, teeth nipping at the junction of her neck and jaw before his smooth tongue soothed the bite.

Both hands were under her shirt now, one hot and dry, the other was slick and almost searing, but it felt amazing. It was right on the edge of pain, but the pleasure was so much stronger. Before she knew what he was doing, her shirt was over her head, landing at their feet carelessly. He paused to look at her bare breasts, his eyes wide and lips parted in an almost pained expression of a starved man. He glanced up at her eyes, and seeing no hesitation in them, he lowered his head, kissing down the swell of a breast before licking her nipple. Emma shuddered, holding on to his shoulders for purchase as he worked his mouth around the sensitive bud. Moaning, he pulled the hardened flesh into his mouth, sucking and flicking with his tongue simultaneously. Emma bit at her bottom lip, running a hand into his hair to press him harder onto her chest. He pulled back just enough to switch to the other side, his scruff scratching her sternum on the way.

His hands squeezed her breasts, one side of her body getting smeared with the black blood still trickling from his wounds. The small groans he made were driving her crazy, creating a warmth low in her abdomen, setting her skin alight. Moaning, she squeezed him tighter, her head falling back, exposing her through. Killian looked up and took the opportunity to latch onto the sensitive skin on her neck, teeth grazing across her décolletage while inhaling her angelic scent. Instinctively, a hand reached down and grasped at her hip, thumb sliding under the waistband of her pajama pants, circling the soft skin there. Her knees almost came out from under her, buckling slightly, causing her to wrap her arms around his neck for support. He was more than willing to keep her steady, circling his injured arm around her waist, lifting her up slightly. Emma gasped when his thumb brushed over the top of her underwear, but he didn't go further, not wanting to push her.

She pressed herself forward, molding her body onto his, grasping at the hard planes of his back. Wetness pooled between her legs, a sensation she had only felt one other time with him, in his apartment, the night before he left. She remembered the way her hips instinctively rocked up into his, the way her body knew what to do even when she didn't. She had wondered if Killian's energy was creating this urge in her, but she didn't feel corrupted. Her kind could feel corruption in the air, even if they couldn't stop it, but she felt nothing but their combined energies mingling together in the atmosphere. She hadn't even realized that they had been moving back into the room until the bed pressed into the backs of her knees. Emma nudged him with her nose, forcing his mouth back onto hers. He happily obliged, smiling against her eager lips.

He gently pushed her down onto the bed, remaining upright between her spread knees. She looked so beautiful like this, looking up at him through dark lashes, green eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. He ran his right hand through her hair, stopping to rest on her cheek, thumb rubbing against her bottom lip. He gave her a soft smile before kneeling down, grabbing the waistband of her pajama pants on both sides and pulling down a few inches. Emma's breath hitched, taking a deep breath through her nose. She watched Killian's eyes turn down slightly at her reaction. She wasn't hesitating, she didn't want to hesitate, but she was nervous. She wanted this, but it was her first time; nervousness was to be expected. She smiled at him, nodding and wiggling her hips, almost giggling when his lips turned up as well.

The demon slowly started pulling her pants down further down her legs, exposing her smooth, pale skin with every inch until the fabric pooled around her ankles. She pulled her feet out from the pants, leaving them in a pile between their legs. He stared at her in awe, covered in nothing but white, cotton underwear, the Fallen angel was a vision, too stunning for words to describe. He held her eyes with his as he bent down, placing a kiss onto one knee, and then the other. She gasped, exhaling loudly as his mouth slowly made its way up both inner thighs, stopping right before the apex. He hooked his fingers on either side of her underwear, his eyes smoldering as his slowly pulled them down her slim thighs. She gripped at the rough sheets beneath her, unable to stop herself from biting her lower lip. As the last bit of clothing was pulled away from her ankles, she felt liberated, sighing in relief as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her. She heard him growl, low and broken, at her completely bare form. She could feel his hot breath, smoky and thick, between her legs, and made her throb with want.

Wrapping his arms under her legs, he pulled her forward, closer to his face, giving him complete access to her waiting flesh. He looked at her in amazement, she was completely bare, one of the marks of an Innocent, keeping her looking young, and proving her infertility to the demons, angels, and mortals that dare see her this way. He found her absolutely beautiful, smooth and hairless, she was a seamless line of pale skin and subtle curves, ready for the taking. He leaned forward, placing open-mouthed kisses across her lower stomach, teeth grazing each hip bone before moving back down. His breath ghosted over her mound, dark grey smoke rolling off her skin and diffusing into the air.

His vivid blue eyes swirled with the flames that were on the cusp of taking over, but he remained calm and collected. She could see the pure want in those blue depths, the almost pained expression of wanting to just take her, and she loved it. She propped herself on her elbows, her lips parted and breath shaky. She wasn't sure what the demon was about to do, but she wanted it. The look in his eyes gave her all the encouragement she needed to allow him access to her prized virtue. He kept eye contact with her, slowly descending until his lips gently brushed her sensitive flesh. Her hips bucked up, forcing him to drape his right arm across her hips to hold her still. His left hand massaged the side of her thigh as he ran a tongue through her folds. They moaned in unison, Emma's head falling back, a delicate hand reaching down to lace he fingers with his bloody ones on her leg.

She tasted divine, more so than he had ever imagined. Her flavor was that of a ripe, exotic fruit, tangy and sweet, and perfect. He went back for more, sliding his tongue over her clit, a part of her she didn't know existed. She reacted just as he had hoped, loud groan escaping her perfect lips, body tensing, skin flushing. He loved how she intuitively ground herself down onto his tongue, hips rolling in a seductive dance he couldn't deny. He moved his hand from across her hips, going towards her chest and grabbing a breast in his large hand.

It felt like nothing she had ever experienced. It felt like something she wanted to peak, fall over the edge with, but never wanted the fall to end. She couldn't keep still, her body felt strung, like an overly taught string, and she was waiting for Killian to snap the thread. She watched his mouth on her most private skin, lapping and sucking so delicately. His handsome and harsh features fit perfectly between her thighs, the roughness of his stubble scratching at her skin, leaving red marks that furthered the pleasure she was feeling.

His arousal was painfully hard in his pants, but he knew she still needed to be warmed up, and he was more than willing to wait to please her properly. His eyes held hers as he brought a single finger to his mouth, sucking on it to coat his digit in saliva, thickened by the taste of her essence. She licked her lips at the sight of the demon, so ridiculously beautiful, do things that she knew had to be debauch. She felt his slick finger slip between her wet folds and circle her entrance, something she only knew about because of learning about the Virgin Birth. It was a strange sensation, but wasn't unpleasant, and Killian's face, full of wanting and need, immediately comforted any anxiety.

He didn't penetrate, not yet, wanting to allow her to adjust to the feeling of her virginal hole being touched. He couldn't hold the deep groan at feel of the small opening, completely untouched, even by her own hand. There was something absolutely sinful about being the only one to ever touch her where she had been denied to accept as anything other than a wrongfully tempting part of her body. He bent down to lick her swollen clit as he slowly pushed his finger into her, watching her face for any signs of pain. She only showed surprise, her eyes wide and mouth open, a small whimper falling from her lips. With a growl, he began to gently pump his finger in and out, licking at her with his tongue in unison. After a few minutes, he could tell she was accustomed to the intrusion, her body slowly relaxing and melting into his touch. Wetting another finger, he cautiously pushed the second into her tightness, slowing his pace until she adjusted. He continued to move his fingers in and out when both of her hands gripped at his inured arm, pulling it up to rest across her chest. The frequency of the soft cries and the hardening of her walls alerted him to her imminent release, an event, he hoped, would make her want more.

He stood up between her legs, his fingers never leaving the warm embrace of her inner walls. Leaning over her nude form, he held his face directly over hers, feeling her panting, cool breath against his lips. He brought his left arm up, his hand cupping the back of her neck, pulling her up to press their lips together softly. She could feel the wet heat of his blood smearing her skin on the back of her neck and shoulders, but he held her up firmly. Killian kissed her forehead before pressing it against his own, dragging his wet fingers from her heat to circle around her sensitive clit. He could feel her shaking in his grasp, her muscles unintentionally contracting and jerking, her breathing just as erratic. She wrapped both her arms around his neck, her fingers gripping in his hair as she felt herself fall over that blissful peak into a pool of sensation. Her pupils had blown wide, surrounded by the halo of white light that appeared when her energy was at its highest.

Killian could feel her inner muscles contract, even from the outside, and he couldn't contain the pained groan that left his throat as he pressed their lips together. He continued to circle her sensitive bud as she came down from her high, a new flush was present on her cheeks, and her mouth was slack, parted slightly. She looked absolutely beautiful this way, completely undone, relinquishing her righteous virtue to him. The only thing they could hear was their breathing, heavy to the ears, but light against their skin, the air between them filling with the faint smoke escaping the demon's mouth anytime it opened. Emma would breathe it in, inhaling deeply to bring him further inside, needing the intimacy he was providing. She had never imagined anything could feel as good as he had made her feel. She could have never believed that the hand of a demon was better than a kiss from her Heavenly Father, better than the pure, untainted energy she had been bestowed. Killian was so much better, so much more than she could even fathom.

He drug his dampened fingers from her folds, up her body before pressing them against her lips. He slowly pushed one into her mouth, bending down to suck on the other, tasting her together. She didn't know why she felt the familiar pull in her abdomen at her own tangy essence, but she noticed the demon loved it, removing his fingers and plunging his tongue into her mouth, devouring her gasp of surprise. His body was burning on top of her, not yet surrounded by flames, but releasing steam into the air. His eyes remained blue, but the inferno was kindled, just waiting for a gust of air to ignite fully.

Without warning he stood up straight, kicking out of his shoes and socks before unbuttoning his pants. Emma watched as his hands worked the fabric, only slightly hindered by the bleeding hand, down his lean hips before the clothing fell to the ground at his feet. His right hand grasped his manhood as he stepped out of the pants, keeping his eyes directly on Emma's, watching her reaction. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his lips at her wide eyes and open mouth, a worried, but hungry, look swimming in the green depths. He slowly made his way back onto the bed, crawling over her body, kissing his way up until he reached her lips. Their mouths connected gently as he maneuvered himself between her thighs, his hips resting on top of hers, his thick member pressing into her stomach.

A few experimental thrusts had her craving more. She could feel the hard thickness of him across her stomach, rocking carefully over her. The silky drag of it, the smooth but rigid feel, had her curious. She wiggled a hand in between them, urging Killian to lift himself off of her a few inches, allowing her hand to wrap around his cock firmly. He thrust into her hand, moaning loudly, his left forearm pressed into the mattress by her head, his right hand grasping her hips tightly. He allowed her to explore, knowing fully that she had never seen or touched a male member that was aroused before. Nudity wasn't considered sexual to her kind, and he hoped exploring the sexual nature of it would be fun for them both. He wasn't disappointed.

Emma stroked and squeezed his cock as he slid it between her thin fingers, reveling in the soft, but hard, feel of him. She loved how he would shake if she squeezed it, how he would growl when she did a slow, long stroke. It was more than she had expected, even with her limited knowledge of subject. She had no idea how his cock was going to fit inside of her, but she knew it was possible. Experiencing thousands of centuries of births was enough to prove that. She swiped her thumb across the head, feeling a bead of wetness spread over him as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. He kissed her neck, her collar bone and her ear, breathing deeply as she swirled her thumb over the tip as her hand gripped hard. He brought his left hand to her cheek, cupping her face as his thumb moved across her bottom lip. She pulled the digit inside, licking at his blood and skin. The black blood tasted of spice and smoke, coating her mouth in a warm layer, a faint burnt flavor clinging to the back of her tongue.

He couldn't take anymore of her sweet torture lulling him into a primal state, so close to completion. Forcing his hand away from her hip, he wrapped it around her hand that was touching him, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder. Her fingers tangled into his hair as he ran his right hand down her thigh, grabbing behind her knee to lift her leg up and over his hip. Their hips were flush, the only thing between them was Killian's hard length, pressing over her slit, rubbing through her slickness to coat himself with her essence. She shivered with the contact, surprised by how incredible he felt between her legs, how his slim hips fit perfectly between her, and how his larger body hovered over her.

Dragging his right hand from her thigh across his hip up, he caressed her jaw, his thumb stroking idly along the skin of her temple, smiling softly at her. He could have easily taken her, a slight adjusting in the angle of his hips and he could have been sliding through her heat, pressing into uncharted territory, claiming it as his, and his alone, but he couldn't. He couldn't force himself to do anything that could hurt her, or scare her, because her happiness and her comfort meant more to him than anything else, and it was a chilling thought he wished to save for another time.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice deep and quiet, his words only meant for her ears. He started into the green eyes, a white halo around the pupil, and almost prayed that she would let him continue.

A few seconds passed by, seconds that seemed longer than his eternal life, but she eventually smiled at him. "Yes," she said simply, licking her lips before leaning up to kiss his. Killian exhaled a loud sigh in relief before their lips touched. Their tongues curled around each other before they broke apart, breathing heavily, smoke filling the small space between them. With his left arm still holding most of his weight, spreading blood all over them both, he adjusted their bodies, giving him better access to her sweet center. Removing his other hand from her face, he placed his fingers to parted lips, gathering saliva before lowering his hand and coating his hard length for lubrication.

It would take all of his will power to not plunge into her tightness, but he would not ruin this for her, for either of them. He aligned himself with her entrance carefully, watching her face the entire time, reading the emotions that appeared there. Gently, he pushed in lightly, not yet penetrating but allowing his member to tease her hole, preparing it for his invasion. She gasped as he pushed a little farther, the smallest bit of him entering her, but it was not painful. She gave him a slight nod, telling him to continue, the anticipation of being filled was almost too much. He pushed deeper, this time the head of his cock slipping, eliciting a groan from the demon. Emma bit her lip, thick pressure building between her legs, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It almost felt as if she took in more, the pressure would ease, so she urged him to continue, her grip in his hair grew stronger, her other hand grasping at his bicep, nails digging into his skin. Her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him closer, wanting more of the delicious burn of his manhood stretching her. He watched her bite her bottom lip, taking a deep breath and moaning ever-so-lightly, and he was done. He gently thrust forward, this time continuing until most of his length was sheathed snugly inside of her. They both moaned as he finally filled her completely, taking away the virtue she once had, taking away the innocence she had been destined with.

He remained still, relishing in the feel of her warmth wrapped around his hardened member and the way her face screwed then relaxed as her body gave into the pleasure. Once he felt she had become accustomed to his size, he slowly eased out of her, coming just to the tip and gently filling her again. He watched her face carefully, looking for any signs of discomfort, more than to be expected when deflowering someone. He could feel himself shake above her, not from holding himself up, but from holding back. She was so tight and wet around him, his body heat making her walls feel hot against himself, and it was almost too much to stay composed.

To put into words what Emma felt when the demon entered her in the most intimate way possible was an impossibility. While there was a discomfort, a thick pressure, there was a feeling of completeness and pleasure she never knew to exist. To slow and long drags of his cock made her head buzz, the weight of his body on top of hers felt like a fire had been set, one that was harmless and soothing. The grinding of their hips, his wounded arm holding himself up next to her head, the other caressing her thigh in a strong, but firm, grasp, had brought her closer to understanding herself than any other experience she had ever had. Being blessed for her work, remaining pure, and even becoming a Fallen, had not affected her as much as this moment had. It was almost as if she could see their energies, their beings, mingle together in a perfect balance of good and evil, a perfect amount of sin and righteousness.

Her virginal state kept her tight, and he knew having Emma's sex wrapped around his cock would pull his seed far faster than he wanted, but he didn't have the will to care. He didn't expect this to happen, at least not like this, but his trip back to his infernal home, the threats that had been made, and the emotional enlightenment he had experienced conducted his actions, and he didn't regret a single moment. The angel was beautiful, writhing under him wantonly, like a woman with far more experience than her. She was naturally beautiful, and surprisingly, naturally sexual, when encouraged.

Killian maintained his slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm her in any way. There would be plenty of time to explore with different methods, he hoped. His gentleness not only surprised her, but he also surprised himself. He had never worried about the other women he had fucked, never really needed to, they always seemed to enjoy his rough nature. There was something special about this moment, he felt a connection he had never felt, a want for more than just her body. A desire for her soul was present, and it scared him. He pushed his fear away, focusing solely on the creature beneath him. Bending down, he kissed her jaw, making his way over until his lips found hers. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, loving the whimper she made as her eyes fluttered open. He found lust in those angelic eyes, and it forced his pace to increase lightly. He allowed himself to enter her deeper, but stayed tender. He wanted more than anything to feel her cum around his cock, squeeze around his length deliciously. It would be the end of him, a sweet, sweet undoing he would gladly give his life for.

She felt that tingling sensation where their bodies were connected just as before, the same feeling he created with his fingers. While the sensation was the same, it had more intensity, spreading throughout her limbs and even into her head. She felt drunk off of the push and pull of their bodies, the way he smelled of something burning, the way the smoke he breathed out seemed to make her hot and wanting. She was drawn to his form; tanned skin, a dusting of black hair, lean muscle, sitting below a beautiful face and enticing eyes. She understood why mortal women would sell their souls for his time, for his attention.

Killian felt the coiling low in his loins, marking his closeness to completion. Feeling her walls begin fluttering around him only edged him on. She was close, he could feel it, and the look on her face only proved it further. He pressed himself more fully onto her, needing to feel every inch of her body on his. He switched arms, moving his right forearm to rest next to her face, his hand holding the back of her head, while his left hand moved to caress her cheek, thumb resting below her bottom lip. He watched as her porcelain skin was stained with the black of his blood, and the sight almost sent him over the edge. She was beautiful, even with the slight addition of darkness.

She wrapped her arms around his back, her hands hooking at the tops of his shoulders, allowing her to feel muscles move beneath the skin. She was there, at the precipice of the mountain, and all she needed was one more push to send her falling. Her back arched on its own accord, and making eye contact with Killian, holding her stare with those deep blue pools sent her tumbling. Her body arched into his, pressing them even closer, her eyes slammed shut and she saw a light brighter than that of Heaven. Wave after wave of pulsing pleasure ripped through her, and she was barely aware of the demon's growls and moans of encouragement. When she finally came back to the moment, she felt his mouth on her neck, his body moving more erratically, the muscle beneath her hands twitching and shuddering. She held him close, running her fingernails across his shoulders as he pressed his forehead to her cheek. She felt hot breath billow against her neck as his body all but vibrated above her.

Her orgasm had released the beast within him, making his resolve almost impossible to control. He kept his thrusts gentle, but allowed himself to fully enter her in long, strong strokes. At that moment, the only thought he had running through his mind was filling her up with his seed, coating her walls with it and claiming her completely. With a final thrust and growl, he found release within her, slowly rutting into her as he finished. Barely able to breath, he couldn't remember a time where sex had ever felt this great. He was completely spent, working hard to keep himself in check, but he couldn't move, he couldn't pull out of the angel's wetness, and didn't want to lose contact. It wasn't until he felt Emma squirm beneath him that he lifted himself up and kissed her deeply before rolling off to the side.

She immediately felt the loss of his body heat as he rolled off, but she sought out his hand, wanting something to hold on to. She couldn't explain how she felt, completely sated, but surrounded by a shadow of guilt that kept her from feeling totally blissful. She found his hand, large and hot next to her and she gripped his tightly, relaxing slightly as he laced their fingers together. He brought their hands up to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly before leaning up. He sat up just enough to press his lips to her forehead, giving her pleasant smile and kissing her. She returned the action in earnest, feeling things differently but completely the same. She had experienced what it felt like to be intimate with another, and it had forever altered her perception of the world.

With his arm wrapped around her front, he shifted their bodies so his front was pressed against her back. He held her close, pulling her tightly against him, his left hand cupping her breast possessively. She could feel a wetness pooling between her thighs, thick and slippery, and she knew it to be his release. It made her smile, but she wouldn't let him see that. While it was cool in the room, the heat Killian produced was enough to keep her warm without any blankets. His strong arms surrounded her, and his chest pressed into her shoulder blades. She felt completely safe in his embrace, like nothing could ever hurt her. Looking down, she saw his injured hand and forearm, covered in black, but the bleeding had stopped. She knew they were both covered in his blood, but it didn't matter, but she was curious as to what had happened to him in Hell. She was curious as to the events that led up to this moment. He had appeared at her door, bleeding, still steaming from the heat difference, and looking relieved at the sight of her. Then he had kissed her, and the world had stopped until now.

It dawned on her that she had only said one word to him the whole time, he had simply said a few more. Everything went so smoothly, at least, she thought it did, that they didn't even need to communicate. They could read each other's eyes, and that's all they needed. "Killian?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She pulled his arm tighter around her, and she could feel the wounds that had been inflicted there.

"Yes, love?" he replied, nuzzling his face into her neck and inhaling deeply. He never held onto a lover after the fact, but her body drew him in, and he couldn't part from it.

"What happened to you?" her question came out concerned, and she traced the marks left on him, feeling the deep and shallow cuts, but he never flinched from her touch.

"A simple disagreement, that's all," he stated softly, kissing her neck and licking at her pulse. He knew that she would ask questions eventually, but he didn't feel it necessary to talk about it now.

Emma chewed on her lip, she could tell he was hiding something, but didn't want to push it, not after the sex they had. The guilt that had clouded her mind was slowly pushing its way back to be nothing more than a small speck of doubt. He allowed her eyes to fall shut as she took a deep breath, cuddling back into the warm body behind her.

Holding the angel in his arms only strengthened the need he felt to protect her. She had already been through so much since coming to this world, and he couldn't bear to have her experience any more. He knew there that he couldn't tell Emma about Regina's plan. He couldn't make her live in fear along with all of the other negative feelings she had about her situation. He would protect her from Mammon, even if it killed him. Telling her would only complicate things. She didn't need to know.

He felt her breath even out as she fell asleep. He couldn't help the smile that spread over his lips having her sleeping in his arms. He pressed a chaste kiss to neck before settling down. He'd let her sleep for a while, hopefully get some sleep himself, and then they'd talk about where this left them. He hadn't planned to have her this way, but after returning from Hell, and seeing her, he just couldn't control his desires. Over her shoulder he could see the underwear he had stripped her of on the floor, pure white with stains of black from his blood. He saw the cloth as an example of his Fallen Angel, mostly pure, but her body was now tainted, and her soul was tinged black. While he loved having her, he couldn't help but feel guilty about stripping her of her most prized possession: her virtue.

After waiting a while, he allowed himself to fall asleep with the scent of her hair filling his lungs, the feel of her body in his arms, and the sweet curve of her ass pushing back onto him. He could fall asleep and wake up to his for the rest of eternity and never tire of her. He only hoped she would, eventually, feel the same.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Please tell me that about 4700 words of pure smut made up for the long time between updates! Haha, I hope so. I worked hard on this, making sure everything was perfect and fitting for their first time together and Emma's deflowering. These are never beta'd, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Please let me know what you thought, I love to hear from you guys! I hope you'll never have to wait this long again, but I don't make promises to anyone or anything, you never know what life is going to throw at you. Until next time, my dark ones... -Bailey**_


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